Irrevocable
by dnofsunshine
Summary: Out of all the tragedies and horrors he experienced and witnessed as a Chosen Child, nothing haunted Takeru more than this. Collection of interconnected stories set during/after the events of "Hell over Me." Gen. Trigger warning.
1. Meeting

**Trigger warning:** This collection will include **bloodshed, language, violence, implied self-harm, death,** and **attempted suicide.** I don't encourage any of this, but I respect everyone on here, and will _always_ put a warning at the top of any chapter that could possibly be triggering.

 **a/n:** This takes place **during/after** **my story, "Hell over Me."** So it will not make any sense if you have not read that. There are so many things that were left (although purposefully) unresolved in HoM, and I'd like to go back and fix that! Shout out to **Green Spaghetti** , because this probably would not be up if it weren't for you; and **ToastyToaster22** for being so supportive about this! Enjoy everybody, and thank you for reading!

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 **setting:** between ch 23-24

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Yamato did not want to sit still.

He did not want to be in the digital world, let alone in Gennai's house. The only place he wanted to be was by Takeru's side. He wanted to be there when Takeru woke up. He could not stand the idea of Takeru waking up in a hospital, afraid and alone.

(Except he was not alone. His parents were there. But this did little to comfort Yamato. _He_ was not there. And he should be.)

A furious tic started in his jaw, almost like a bomb ready to explode. He drummed his fingers against his pant leg, mind whirling, body itching with the desire to run out of this stupid place and back to the hospital.

A warm paw clasped around his right shoulder. "He's going to be ok, Yamato."

Yamato glared at the speaker with red-webbed eyes, but Gabumon's expression was so tender that his boiling anger died down to a simmer. He tore his gaze away. Muttered, "I don't want to be here."

On his left side, Sora squeezed his knee in an attempt to comfort him. "We know."

Maybe she didn't know. Sora wasn't there. She didn't see Takeru jump. She didn't see Piemon or his servants. She didn't hear Sakauchi's voice—mixed with his brother's—when Takeru had been possessed.

But she did see the blood. She saw how pale and thin and _dead_ Takeru looked, draped over Yamato's shoulders like a human backpack.

"Gabumon's right," she murmured, her voice now tentative. "Gennai said this wouldn't take long."

Yamato scowled at the door behind which Gennai was currently located. "I'll give him fifteen minutes."

It was like a funeral—grave faces and awkward silence. But no one was crying. Not anymore, at least.

Yamato had not slept more than an hour in the past thirty-six hours. After his parents had rushed Takeru to the hospital, everyone who battled against Piemon was briefly looked over. Takeru was quickly stabilized—he was severely dehydrated, Jou's father had said. It didn't help that Yamato did not know the last time Takeru got a good night's sleep. Nor did he know the last time Takeru had a good meal, because he hadn't finished the one Yamato cooked up last night.

He fought back a shudder as he thought about the feeling of Takeru's blood smeared across his own clothes. His father made a trip home to grab him a change of fresh, clean clothes—the ones he was presently wearing—while they were at the hospital but the feeling was difficult to shake off.

He risked a quick glance in Hikari's direction. She, too, had changed into a new set of clothes; and she was dozing slightly, leaning against Taichi's shoulder with Tailmon sitting wearily on the floor next to her. Patamon was curled up in Hikari's lap, as reluctant to leave Takeru's side as Yamato had been, but he was somehow seeking comfort in Hikari's presence.

Alongside Yamato's frustration and anger was confusion. Takeru's and Hikari's souls and crests had literally _combined_ and they did not understand the full magnitude of what that meant. He knew Takeru was going to need a long time to recover before he started talking about what transpired. Even if Takeru _was_ physically and mentally healthy enough to be here, Hikari still looked exhausted. She had collapsed the moment they got back to Earth.

 _"Your soul was damaged, Hope."_

 _"A part of Light's soul resides within his body. You are connected even in death."_

Yamato tried to stifle another shudder.

His gaze swam around the room. Mimi sat with her knees pulled up to her chest across from Yamato, Palmon sitting faithfully by her side. Jou was staring anxiously at the door with a sleeping Gomamon in his lap. Ken was clutching Wormmon to his chest, leaning against a wall that was all glass, dividing the room from the lake that surrounded Gennai's house. Ken's eyes were fluttering as though he was ready to give into slumber.

Yamato was not sure if anybody besides Hikari had slept at all. Regardless, everyone else looked tired, confused, and doubtful; and they had every right to be. They were all waiting for an explanation. But it was Takeru and Hikari's story to tell, and all Hikari had told them was, "It's over."

Daisuke rubbed his eye, a frown on his face. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he asked, "Is Gennai coming back out, or not?"

As if on cue, the door opened and Gennai stepped through. Around him, people began to perk up, but Yamato's automatic instinct was to glare at the being keeping him from his younger brother.

Gennai noticed this immediately and released a long-suffering sigh as he looked directly into Yamato's eyes. "I know you are angry. I'm sorry to pull you away—"

"My brother is hooked up to a bunch of machines in another dimension and I don't know when he will wake up," Yamato said lowly, seething. "And you dragged me here to 'talk about the disturbances.' What if he wakes up all alone, huh? He needs me right now. Yeah, I'm pretty pissed."

Sora squeezed his knee again, trying to soothe him. But Yamato didn't care if he was being rude.

"Hurry up and spit it out, so we can go home," he hissed.

Gennai frowned and was silent only for a heartbeat. "All right. As you would have guessed, the...order to the digital world has been restored. But..."

Yamato's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"The presence I felt all night," he hedged, "was...familiar. One of the Dark Masters."

A collective intake of breath erupted through the room. Hikari whispered, "It was Piemon."

It was the first time she had spoken since she fainted in Taichi's arms several hours ago. Next to her, Tailmon went stiff, but she did not say a word. Patamon's eyes were strangely cold and detached, just like Hikari's voice.

"...only Piemon?"

"Yes," Hikari said quietly.

Yamato scoffed, his fingers curled into fists and he clenched his teeth. Was this all Gennai wanted? To know the source of the disturbances and then confirm that it had been disposed of correctly? Gennai always had a habit of sneaking up when they least expected it, already knowing everything that they did and were going to do. He had been like that since Yamato was eleven years old. And _now,_ over six years later, he suddenly did not know anything?

(Even _Koushiro_ knew better than to ask questions at a time like this. And Koushiro _always_ had questions.)

"You're...sure?"

"You said so yourself that all order had been restored. Isn't that enough proof?" Yamato rounded on him.

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Daisuke said, and he looked at an exhausted Ken as he spoke. "You mean, like, the Dark Masters you told us about all those years ago? That _Piemon?_ "

Yamato pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not in the mood for this."

"I understand that you are frustrated," Gennai told him. "I just... want to know what _happened—_ "

"I can't _tell_ you what happened," Yamato snapped. "Not right now, not without Takeru. You're going to have to wait, ok? Especially because he and Hikari—"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hikari grow stiff. He stopped, looking down at the floor, still seething. Eventually finished with, "...it's not my story. So leave it be, will you?"

"...I see." Gennai's expression was grim. His eyes then landed on Hikari, but he stayed silent for a few more achingly long moments.

"Was... was it really that bad?" Miyako whispered with wide, glossy eyes before Gennai could speak again. "We saw the blood but..."

She trailed off, and there was no answer, not at first. Hikari hugged Patamon close as though he was her own partner, and Yamato swore he saw a slight tremor in her fingers when she used her other hand to pet Tailmon, who pressed herself against Hikari. "Takeru died."

It was like somebody had fired a gun. Everything was still, and no one dared to breathe.

Then came the response:

Bug eyes. Paralytic terror. Confusion. Tears. Gasps. Pure, all-consuming shock. Patamon looked ready to cry, and Taichi's arm around Hikari's shoulder tightened visibly. Ken, Mimi, and Jou were all looking away with unreadable expressions.

"...wh-what?" Daisuke breathed out in horror.

Yamato worked his jaw. He twitched as an unwanted image of Takeru stepping off the roof of Piemon's house as though there was another step to catch him crossed his mind. And then, they just kept coming:

Takeru lying bloody and unresponsive in his arms; Takeru laughing a laugh that did not belong him; Takeru ( _not Takeru)_ pushing Yamato down to to the ground, taunting him; taunting all of them...

 _"You should have heard him_ scream."

Never had he wanted to leave the digital world so badly. It did not matter what the doctors had said. Yamato needed to get out of here so he could see his brother for himself. Needed to hear the heart monitor, needed to see him breathing.

"Piemon did such _awful_ things to him," Hikari said in the same low, wobbly voice. The tears in her eyes did not fall. "There are not words."

"...I was afraid of that," Gennai started, not without sympathy.

Something in Yamato snapped.

"Do you know what it's like?" he shouted, slamming his hands down onto the wooden floor panels so hard that it sent tingling pinpricks of pain up his fingers. "To have your little brother die _in your arms?_ Do you know how terrifying that is? To see him bleed out, the way I did?"

"Yamato—" Gabumon began quietly.

"No," he went on viciously, shaking his head with a laugh that was empty; "you don't know. You don't know _anything._ And I know that you're curious, because this is your world, and you like to know what happens in it, but...this is _not_ where I should be right now. I'm leaving."

He pushed himself off the floor with so much haste that he almost stumbled. Shook off Sora's delicate hand and Gabumon's comforting, soft paw.

"I knew he was gone," Gennai said, making Yamato freeze in his place.

He whirled around, pinning Gennai with icy blue eyes. "What?"

"His crest was...dead," he went on. "Usually, when a crest is inactive, it still has...some semblance of energy, hidden somewhere deep inside. But in the crest of Hope, all traces of that energy were gone. But then..."

His eyes found Hikari. She did not look up to meet his curious stare.

Realization struck Yamato like he'd been tossed into a cold pool of water. Of course. He wanted to know about Hikari and Takeru's combined crest. Their souls _merged._ As far as Yamato knew, that had never happened before. Gennai must have sensed it, just as he had sensed Piemon's presence.

But it wasn't like Hikari had the answers that Gennai wanted. Their crests disappeared the moment they returned to Earth. And Takeru was nowhere near ready to share his side of the story, damn it.

"Hikari?" Gennai pressed quietly. Patiently.

"Not right now," she muttered hollowly. "I want to wait until Takeru is better. It seems wrong if he is not here."

"She's right," Tailmon added in a tense whisper. "It would not be respectful to talk about him behind his back like that."

"Besides," Patamon said, ears drooping as he echoed Yamato's thoughts: "The crests are gone now."

Yamato's eyes narrowed. Gennai fell silent for a few suspended moments. His expression had been wiped clean, and he gave a brief nod. Repeated, "I see."

"Can we go now?" Yamato hissed through gritted teeth.

A long pause. Gennai said, "Yes."

Gennai said something else, but Yamato was already heading out the door. Gabumon became a small ball of light, signaling that he was evolving, and he did not wait for any of his friends to catch up. His mounted Garurumon, hands gripping his fur tightly as they ascended the stairs, trying to find a portal.

It was stupid to ride on Garurumon's back through the city of Odaiba. They attracted so much unwanted attention. But the only thing on his mind getting to the hospital, and it would have taken three times as long if he walked.

Takeru was not awake yet, his parents told him. Yamato was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Regardless, he ran across the room, dumping himself into the chair beside Takeru's hospital bed with the grace of a six-year-old, and slipped his hand into his little brother's. Squeezed. Brushed stray hairs out of Takeru's eyes.

Whispered gently, "I'm back."

And he waited.


	2. Connected

**a/n:** This piece is definitely lighter than the last chapter. But I've never written Tailmon before, sooo... here goes nothing. Enjoy!

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 **setting:** post-ch 24

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From the moment Tailmon laid eyes on Hikari, she felt drawn to her. She followed her everywhere, out of pure instinct. Through parks, across streets, her apartment (into which Hikari had warmly welcomed her, ignorant of her gruesome intentions—what a strange human Hikari was). When she found out the two were destined to be Chosen partners, she had sworn to protect her, regardless of how dangerous the situation was.

And Hikari had continued to surprise her throughout the years. How frail she was, falling victim to a fever so easily in the digital world when they returned to take down the Dark Masters.

How resilient and stubborn she was, fighting through her sickness and then sticking up for the Numemon when she learned they were enslaved by one of Machinedramon ill-tempered servants.

How inexplicably prideful she became after Tailmon instigated a fight with Ladydevimon, throwing punches every which way; not without screaming twisted, condescending insults no eight-year-old should repeat.

And so vulnerable still, dragged against her will to the Dark Ocean to become the bride of a powerful, foreboding digimon whom to this day, they knew very little about.

And once again, after Piemon returned, with revenge at the front of his mind, holding Takeru's life in his hands. Without hesitation, Hikari had literally pulled herself apart to save him. She brought him back from the sickly fingers of death.

Which was only two months ago. She knew without question that Hikari and Takeru would do anything for each other. But she did not know humans were able to do _that_.

(Although Hikari was not your average human girl.)

Tailmon's gaze swept around the room without hurry and stopped only when her eyes found the boy who was alive because of a miracle. A piece of her partner's soul resided within him. She knew that they were irrevocably connected, even as they drew in their final breath.

Tailmon, now, felt drawn to Takeru; and even though she knew the reasoning behind this, it did not mean she was not baffled by it. It was not unpleasant, but strange. She wondered concisely if Patamon felt the same way.

Tailmon met Takeru's eyes, and for a moment they simply stared at each other in mutual curiosity. It did not take Patamon long to notice this, as he _was_ sitting on Takeru's head as though he was his own personal chair.

Hikari had gone out with Miyako to her family's convenience store to grab some snacks, leaving Tailmon and Poromon only because they did not want to catch public attention. They had done that enough over the summer. Although Tailmon was briefly hurt by this, she did not wish to be stuffed into a bag like an article of clothing. But she did not like being away from Hikari for long periods of time.

"I hope they hurry back," Patamon said at last, frowning slightly. Added wistfully, "I'm hungry."

Tailmon scoffed. She was almost thinking that, in some way, Hikari being away from was...making him uneasy, as it was her? But that was Patamon, as usual, thinking more with his stomach than anything else.

Takeru smirked quietly but said nothing, and then there was a chorus of agreements from the other digimon sitting in the room. Daisuke even added he, too, was famished and could use a good meal. Not that whatever junk food Hikari and Miyako brought home would serve as a good meal. She trusted Hikari would pick something that resembled healthy.

(They should have sent Ken with Miyako instead.)

With a roll of her eyes, Tailmon shook her head. And then, mindlessly, she started moving.

She jumped down from Hikari's bed, across the room, right to where Takeru was sitting. Then she was crawling right into his lap, curling up, without even knowing _why_ she felt the need to do so.

The abruptness of her actions drew a little bit of attention from everyone present, but she did not care. Paid more heed to the way Takeru immediately welcomed her, just as Hikari had all those years ago, when they first met. His hand came to rest on the top of her head, thumb gently scratching the edge of her ear. Just like Hikari would do.

She closed her eyes and began to purr. The uneasy feeling in her chest faded slightly.


	3. Waiting

**Trigger warning:** This chapter includes swearing and blood. Proceed with caution.

 **a/n:** I wanted to have this up for Halloween, but it seems I'm a little late. Whoops. (Also: I hope I wrote an ok Taichi. I feel like he might be a little out of character here, but... idk.) Enjoy everybody! Thank you for reading!

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 **setting:** between ch 20-23

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The moment the portal opened, darkness swept over the room. It was cold. Suffocating. Nauseating. Taichi's hand on Hikari's shoulder loosened without his consent, and his knees trembled without warning. It was too much. Bile rose in his throat.

"...will close on its own."

The ghost child's voice sounded odd and distorted like she was speaking through a telephone that only picked up every other word. Taichi sucked in a shallow breath, barely able to keep his eyes open. Hikari was stepping through the portal.

 _No,_ he wanted to shout, but the word would not leave his lips. _Hikari, wait...!_

The lights strobed intermittently. He tried to push himself forward, to reach his younger sister, but his whole body felt uncomfortably heavy and cold, limbs immobilized for reasons he did not know. Whatever was on the other side of the portal would not allow him to enter. Something was pushing him away. Farther. Farther.

Within a few seconds, the sensation disappeared, and he was left lightheaded and trembling on Yamato's living room floor. The portal was gone.

Oh, no.

 _The portal was gone and Hikari was on the other side of it._

For several moments, the room refused to stand still. He blinked repeatedly, trying to catch his breath. A bead of sweat formed on his brow and he could not even wipe it away. Agumon murmured, "Are you ok, Taichi?"

"How _awful,_ " Yamato and Takeru's mother breathed out before he could respond. Her face was incredibly pale. "Did you...did you kids _feel that?_ And Yamato just—and Takeru—I can't believe my boys are in the middle of—oh, they're just _children..._ "

"Natsuko," Ishida-san—Yamato's father—interrupted softly, lips pursed into a thin line. "They're gonna be fine."

But his voice was strained and awkward; he sounded as though he was trying to convince himself, rather than her. Yamato's mother inhaled quiveringly, shaking her head with a laugh that was hollow. "H-how can you say that? Our son has been taken by _ghosts,_ Hiro. They... they want to k-kill my chi—"

Her voice broke again. Without hesitation, Sora was walking over to her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, rubbing comforting circles on her back. Said firmly, "We're strong kids, Takaishi-san. Yamato will pull through. He always does."

"Hey, guys," Daisuke said with a slightly fearful undertone. "Not only did you two get left behind...Ken and Jou are gone."

Wait a second.

Taichi's heart squeezed. Daisuke was right. He and Sora were supposed to go with them. Jou and Ken were not. In a panic, his gaze swept over the room, immediately realizing that Jou and Ken—along with their digimon partners—were not present.

"What the hell happened?" he said, looking at Sora with confused eyes. "I was just—we were supposed to—"

Sora continued to comfort Yamato's mother, but her expression became pensive as she faced him. "I'm not sure. Whatever pulled _them_ through pushed _us_ out."

He frowned, his gaze straying back in the direction of the portal. Hikari was pulled in, without him. They were going to face an unknown enemy, without him. They were going to save Takeru, _without him._

"We need to figure out how to open it again," he said, pushing himself to his feet. Didn't care that he stumbled. "I need to be with Hikari."

"I don't even think there's a _way_ to open a new portal," Koushiro started. "We don't—"

"Then find a way," he snapped.

There was a heavy pause. In the back of his mind, Taichi knew that getting angry would not help the situation. But he didn't care. He couldn't just sit here and wait for them to return. Who knew how long that would take? Who knew what they were up against? Taichi rarely missed out on a battle. He _refused_ to miss out on this one. He needed to be there to help them, damn it.

"...that girl said her brother was the one who pulled Takeru through," Koushiro explained slowly; calmly. "And she is the only one who has an idea of Takeru's location. Even if we could figure out how to create a new portal, we'd have no idea where we're going."

"And she said if too many of us went at once, her Master would sense us," Piyomon added dejectedly. "We don't want to ruin their element of surprise. They'll need any advantage they can get."

Taichi drew in a deep breath. All of that was true, but it didn't make him feel any better. "I can't just stand by and do nothing."

"Do you think..." Daisuke hedged suddenly, before shaking his head. "Wait. Never mind."

Taichi looked at him with sharp eyes. "What were you gonna say?"

He paused, his expression uncharacteristically grim. Daisuke usually radiated energy. "...do you think we can message them on the d-terminals to see if they arrived ok?"

Taichi glanced at Koushiro and then Sora, who both looked extremely thoughtful. Tentomon said tiredly, "It's worth a shot, right, Koushiro-han? Did you bring your computer?"

Koushiro pursed his lips and nodded silently before taking off his backpack. Sora was already fishing out her d-terminal, taking a step away from Yamato and Takeru's mother to open a new draft.

Taichi did the same. He knew Hikari didn't have her d-terminal on her, but _somebody_ had to. Agumon peered curiously over his shoulder as he typed, _Hey, Yamato, Sora and I couldn't make it through. Everyone's ok, right? Keep us updated._

He sent it without looking the message over and looked around the room without focus, hoping for a reply soon. His heart felt awkwardly big and heavy in his chest like his ribcage wasn't strong enough to contain it.

"She's going to be fine," Sora assured him without having to be prompted as she caught his eye. "You know your sister. She's a tough kid."

Taichi sighed. Even though her words were laced with optimism, there was a sliver of uncertainty reflecting in her gaze. "I know she's tough. And I know they've got her back. It's just... we have no idea what that thing is capable of. Those ghosts have already done so much to Takeru..."

He trailed off then, and silence lay between them uninvited, thick and cumbersome. Takeru's mother broke down into sobs again, and she was talking, but Taichi could not understand what she was saying. Sora was patting her shoulder gently, but this time, it did little to help.

His mind bouncing back to a few hours ago, when he walked in the door of his home and heard his little sister screaming. When she'd bolted out of the bathroom like she was being chased. When she'd sobbed openly into his shoulder, telling him that Takeru was in danger...

It was pointless to think about how they could not have seen it. Takeru was a good actor, even if he _wasn't_ being threatened by otherworldly beings. But they were all still kids, and he couldn't help but think about that day he'd sent messages out to all of the younger chosen, and Takeru didn't answer. Things had...exploded since then, without any of them realizing it.

 _We should all be there, helping him,_ he thought, gritting his teeth. _That's what a team is_ supposed _to do._

"...just a child," Takeru's mother kept repeating. "No child deserves this..."

A rushed knock on the door. Taichi glanced at Yamato's dad, who was instantly walking toward the source of the sound. When he answered the door, a teary-eyed Miyako and a somber Iori stepped inside, accompanied by Poromon and Upamon.

"What happened?" Miyako demanded immediately. "Hikari said that Takeru..." She stopped, glancing around in horror and confusion. "Where is Hikari? Where did everyone go?"

"You're a little late," Koushiro answered quietly. "...they already left."

"Left?" Iori repeated, concerned. "Left where?"

For a long, suffocating moment, there was no answer. Finally, Sora asked, "Should we show them Yamato's bedroom, Ishida-san?"

Yamato's father nodded after a short pause, raking a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure if I can explain it as well as Yamato did. But..."

"Holy..." Miyako trailed off, stopping cold in her tracks.

"Who...what _did_ this?" Iori asked, looking extremely pale as he looked at the rest of the group.

Taichi caught Sora's gaze again, and then he looked at Koushiro. But once again, nobody had a response. Even Daisuke was silent.

Until: "Remember...remember earlier, what Takeru said? About...what we don't know, could get us killed?"

Miyako blinked, brows furrowing as she met Daisuke's gaze, and she and Iori nodded. But Yamato's father was right: it was difficult to explain without Yamato—and Hikari, nonetheless—here, because they had most of the information. The ghost girl was also with them—and it was her master that they were up against. Not to mention, this would be the third time trying to tell a story that didn't make any sense, no matter how many times it came out.

Still. Ishida-san went on to explain that they had been shut out of Yamato's room, where Takeru had chosen to hide. Daisuke supplied a little information regarding the attack from earlier today before Takeru ran off. Sora and Taichi tried to fill in the blanks. By the time they were finished, both Miyako and Iori were sitting at the small table in the front room, and Takeru's mother was wiping her eyes again.

"...still haven't messaged us back," Koushiro concluded, with a heavy sigh. "I can't pick up any signals from their digivices through the digital portal, either. We are just going to have to wait until they return."

Miyako nodded mutely, soaking it all in. Iori murmured, "Takeru has been haunted by _ghosts."_

"Believe me," Takeru's mother croaked out in a wobbly voice, "it doesn't get any less horrifying, the more you say it."

"They'll come back, though," Poromon chirped, speaking for the first time since the two younger kids arrived. "Don't worry, Takeru's mom."

"Yeah," Upamon added, his voice hopeful. "They always come back! Right, Iori?"

Iori nodded quietly, and Takaishi-san laughed again, but it was the same as before: hollow and wet.

Taichi didn't blame her. Although he was thankful for their digimon's optimism, it was extremely hard to convince himself that they would return unscathed. Since the middle of July, those ghosts and the being whom they served caused so much damage, right underneath their noses. According to the little girl, they would not stop until they had what they wanted—and that was Takeru, for some deranged, unknown reason. And that girl's brother wished to see Takeru _dead._

Taichi's fists clenched at the thought.

"You've got to think, Natsuko," Ishida-san said suddenly, pulling Taichi away from his thoughts. "Yamato and the rest of his friends are out there, searching for him. And you know damn well Yamato won't stop until Takeru is found."

 _...he's got a point there,_ Taichi mused silently.

 _"Takeru is your brother, yes?"_

 _"He means the world to me."_

"Yeah," she replied in a hoarse whisper. "Yamato has always been so protective of him."

"Protective is an understatement," Sora muttered, not without affection.

"He promised he would bring him back in one piece," Agumon said, before looking at Taichi with kind eyes. "Takeru would want you to be hopeful, wouldn't he, Taichi?"

"He's got the crest of Hope for a reason," Taichi muttered, with a hint of a smile. He glanced down at his d-terminal, but his inbox was still empty. He released a long-suffering sigh, chewing the inside of his lip. "We're not trying to be pessimistic, Agumon. Honestly, that's the last kind of impression I want to give. It's just... scary, not knowing where they are or what's going on. They still haven't answered our messages." He paused. "I'll try again."

"Maybe..." Daisuke started before Taichi could follow through with it, with his brows furrowed as though in concentration. "Earlier, when we were stranded in the desert, we couldn't send any messages. Maybe—"

"Of course," Koushiro interrupted, hands coming down to smack the table as a sudden thought struck him. "Whoever...whatever is after Takeru—whatever is creating those disturbances Gennai warned us about—must have constructed some sort of...barrier or wall that prevents the others from getting signals." He frowned, looking back at Daisuke. "They probably don't even know that we _sent_ messages."

"And...and they can't tell you if they're ok," Takaishi-san breathed out, puffy eyes filling with tears again. "Which means they could... they could be hurt and we wouldn't k-know—"

This time, it was Miyako who stood up. She rushed toward Yamato's mother, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her in a full-on hug, just as Sora had done earlier. Tears filled her eyes as well.

"Takaishi-san, don't cry," she said in a choked voice. "Your kids are gonna be ok. Don't cry..."

Taichi felt his throat close up. Takeru and Yamato's parents had every reason to worry. Despite the hopeful attitudes of their partners, it all boiled down to this: both of their sons were out there, with no guarantee that they would return alive. And here they were, just making it worse. And he couldn't help but think of Hikari... and Jou... and Tak—

"You should sit down, Natsuko," Ishida-san said abruptly. "You've been standing awhile."

"I can't _sit down,_ Hiro," she snapped, looking at him with glossy, red-webbed eyes. "Why are you so calm? Don't you understand that this other world has _monsters?_ Monsters that want our boys _dead?"_

"Of course I understand that," he replied, his tone becoming slightly heated. "You don't think I'm worried? You think I _want_ our kids to be risking their lives in some other dimension? Absolutely not! But Yamato... Yamato _and_ Takeru wouldn't be wanting us to worry ourselves sick, all right? Maybe they're up against something...fucking terrifying, but those kids have so much power on their side, too. You've seen that firsthand. So... please, just sit down. You've been working all day, right? You need to rest. Those kids are going to want a mother to come home to."

Yamato's mother's chin trembled, and a few stray tears cascaded down her cheeks. Eventually, she nodded, and Miyako and Sora led her to the small table. Ishida-san said, "Have you eaten? Yamato...he cooked something earlier. It's in the fridge, but I can heat some up for you."

She swallowed and then offered a strained smile. "...That would be nice. Thank you."

He nodded slowly. "Is anyone else hungry?"

Taichi shook his head and saw his friends do the same. He was too riled up to eat. But he heard Agumon make some strange noise, and couldn't help but smirk. "Agumon is starving."

"...what?" Agumon said in defense. "Yamato's cooking is tasty!"

Soft rounds of laughter ricocheted around the small apartment, but Agumon's comment was echoed by many other digimon. It wasn't long before they were all following Ishida-san into the kitchen.

Then Taichi said, "Say, Ishida-san?"

"Hmm?"

"Would...would you like some help cleaning up Yamato's room?"

Daisuke added, "He's probably going to need a place to crash when he comes back."

Yamato's father rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying not to step on any digimon as he retrieved some plates from the cabinet. "That...would be appreciated. Thanks, kids."

Taichi stood up from the floor without hesitation. Daisuke mirrored his actions, and Sora was already heading toward Yamato's bedroom. Iori offered politely, "I can help with the dishes if you'd like."

"You don't have to do that," Ishida-san said immediately with a shake of his head.

"No, really, it's fine," Miyako said. "We need something to help pass the time. Put us to work."

He looked uncertain, for a few moments. The microwaved beeped, signaling that the food was (supposed to be) ready to serve. "Well...if you're sure."

Sora glanced at Taichi and then back at Yamato's father with a gentle smile. "We're sure."

* * *

Between the four of them—Taichi, Daisuke, Sora, and Ishida-san—putting Yamato's room back together took a little under an hour. Explaining the scrapes on the wall and the door from Yamato's bed frame was not going to fun to explain to the landlord, Ishida-san's expression told them. But besides that and the small scrape on Yamato's guitar, there didn't seem to be much damage.

(How those ghouls had managed to lift and flip Yamato's bed was beyond Taichi. But they were demented and powerful spirits, that was for sure.)

Miyako and Iori had finished the dishes and offered to clean the rest of the kitchen after Takaishi-san and their digimon partners were finished eating, if only for something to do. Koushiro went back and forth between offering to help and checking his email, hoping to hear something from their friends or maybe Gennai. Even though it was past one in the morning, none of them had heard any news.

This was beyond unsettling. Especially because everyone was beat. In the corner of the room, their partners were dozing. Yamato's mother had her chin propped up on her hand, but her eyes were closed.

Ishida-san's eyes raked the room slowly, working his jaw. It was obvious he was thinking the same thing, because he rubbed his right eye tiredly, expelling a heavy sigh. "As much as I know how impossible this is gonna be, you kids should get some rest. It's really late."

Taichi chewed his lip, and no one responded immediately. Yamato's father left the room briefly, and when he returned, he was carrying an armful of blankets. Said, "We, um. We keep spare blankets around because Takeru usually gets cold easy when he stays..." A dark expression crawled over his face, but only for a few moments. As soon as the look was gone, he added, "I know there isn't a lot of space to lie down but...you kids are welcome to them."

Taichi looked around the room again with heavy eyes. Koushiro was still bent over his laptop (which by now was plugged in to charge the battery—he'd moved to a spot close to an outlet), but he did not seem as focused as he was earlier. Sora was currently looking down at her own d-terminal as if expecting a message at any moment. Iori was sitting in Ishida-san's recliner, not quite asleep, but looking very close to it. Miyako was flipping through an old newspaper, but there was a hazy look in her eyes that told Taichi she wasn't really reading it. Daisuke sat up against the wall, head resting on his knees. Taichi couldn't tell if he'd already drifted off into slumber.

They were bored, exhausted, and worried.

Slowly, Yamato's father placed a blanket on Yamato's mother's shoulders, patting her shoulder when she jolted awake in surprise. He murmured, "You can take Yamato's bed if you want."

"Hiroaki, I'm not—" she began tiredly.

"I'll wake you if anything happens," he assured her gruffly. "Get some rest."

There was a long moment of hesitance, where she held his gaze evenly. Reluctantly, she sighed and murmured, "All right."

She stood up from the chair, making her way toward Yamato's bedroom. But she did not close the door, probably in fear of not being able to hear news whenever it came. Yamato's father turned to Taichi, saying, "Here."

He didn't have time to object before he was handed a blanket as well. Chewing the inside of his cheek, all he could say was, "Thanks."

He nodded. Taichi couldn't deny, it was hard to keep his eyes open. He didn't even know how long he had been up. But even though they all looked like they could use some much-needed rest, Taichi felt guilty for having such thoughts. Wherever Hikari and the others were, they weren't sleeping. They were probably in danger. They were probably...

Probably...

"Taichi," Koushiro called quietly. Suddenly.

Taichi blinked, sitting up instantly. "What? Is it—"

"No," he said, with a weary sigh. "I was just going to tell you, sleeping like that isn't going to feel pleasant later. You should find a comfortable spot if you're going to sleep."

"I'm not going to sleep," he said, frowning.

"I wasn't born yesterday," Koushiro muttered, before looking back at his computer screen. "Your head was getting ready smack the table."

Taichi tried to ignore the way his face warmed. He looked away, grumbling under his breath, lacking the energy to deny it any further.

Koushiro said softly, "I'll let you know if they send a message."

"Aren't you going to need sleep?"

He shrugged. "Staying up late is a normal occurrence for me."

"That isn't healthy," Taichi said, sluggishly moving from his chair to the floor.

"I didn't say it was."

Taichi sat down next to his friend, barely realizing that Sora and Miyako were spreading out a thin blanket on which they could lay. It was a little cramped, but...they'd been through worse. Ishida-san sat down at the now vacant table, rubbing his temple.

"You drink coffee?" he asked, probably directing the question toward Koushiro.

"Not often. I prefer tea," his friend answered, and after a pause, he added, "But if coffee is what you're offering, it would be rude to decline."

Ishida-san laughed, and Taichi heard rustling. He folded his arms into a makeshift pillow, resting his cheek on the back of his forearm, and allowed his eyes to drift shut. Once again, it was not the most comfortable position, but he was exhausted, and it was definitely better than being outside like when they were stranded in the digital world all those years ago...

Someone tapped on his shoulder. Taichi's eyelids fluttered but he did not open them. Instead, he buried his head further into the crook of his arm, mumbling nonsense, and stirred once more when the pressure on his shoulder increased.

"...guys, guys, guys, guys, _GUYS_ —"

Taichi gasped, bolting upright. "What? What's wrong?"

Noise burst around them, from all directions: everyone was starting to panic, and Taichi did not know why. His eyes found Daisuke first, who was extremely pale. He was pointing shakily at the empty space next to Taichi. Confused, Taichi's gaze slid over—

Light swept over them. Agumon was in front of him all of a sudden, pushing him backward. Fear gripped Taichi so quickly, so violently that he felt dizzy, and he flew back against the wall in pure shock. "Wh-what the—"

A little girl stood next to him, with honey-brown eyes and thick dark curls. It took Taichi only a few moments to realize that it was the little girl from earlier; the one who had taken his friends to save Takeru. But she was absolutely different: there was color in her cheeks, her face looked fuller, and she was giggling.

 _There was a ghost giggling at him._

"They have done it," she exclaimed before he had the opportunity to speak. "Master is dead! Sakauchi is saved!"

Who was Sakauchi? And what did she mean, he was...?

 _What?_

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," Taichi gasped out, right as Yamato's father came back in the room with a tired Takaishi-san on his heel. "What do you mean?"

"Master is dead," she repeated, eyes sweeping over the room as though taking in all of their reactions.

"You mean...Takeru and Yamato are—?" Takaishi-san started, a relieved smile breaking out on her face.

Despite only being awake for a few moments, Taichi felt the terror bubble in his chest shift into excitement. All traces of fatigue had vanished in the span of several seconds. Whoever this "master" was, they had defeated it. That meant Takeru was ok, right? Hikari was ok. Everyone was ok.

"I do not have much time," the girl went on, pulling him away from his thoughts. It was strange, seeing her expression change so quickly. "Master's lair has been destroyed, and all of the spirits have been cleansed. I must get back to my brother. But your friends...they are going to need a portal back to Earth."

Koushiro was already opening his laptop (when had he closed it?) and began typing away. His dark eyes blew wide. "She's right—the wall is gone! Their digivice signals are now showing up! I can see their location!"

Daisuke let out a victorious cry. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get them back here!"

"I can create one last portal for you," the girl said, "if they are ready. But you will have to hurry."

Koushiro nodded. "I'm going to shoot them a message."

Taichi hurriedly moved to his side, one hand clamping down on his shoulder. The clock on the corner of his screen read 6:02 a.m. Koushiro's fingers flew over his keyboard, and he hit send before Taichi even had a chance to read it. Not that it mattered. He waited with bated breath for a response, and out of the corner of his eye, the little girl's figure flickered like static.

A loud beep sounded through the room.

 _We're all safe now, and we're bringing Takeru home,_ Jou had sent.

Taichi relayed the message out loud without hesitation, and he felt like laughing with relief. A huge weight seemed to be lifted out of the whole room; the air itself felt lighter.

Koushiro typed out, "Stand your ground. We're going to open a portal." Then he nodded in the ghost's direction, and she extended her arm as if to reach toward something Taichi could not see. She tapped the air as though it was tangible, and this time, when the space in the middle of the room rippled like water in the ocean, there was no sickening darkness. Just waves upon waves of data, and when the small child faded into the unknown twelve familiar humans and digimon stood in her place.

The first person he located was Hikari. She was grey in the face and looked extremely disheveled, but he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her anyway, squeezing her small frame as tightly as he could.

Everyone was almost screaming. Despite this, he heard Hikari say in a hoarse voice, "It's over, Nii-san."

"Good," he said around a wobbly chuckle.

Her body went still against his, signaling that she had lost consciousness. Taichi's eyes popped wide upon realizing this, and he shifted her weight so he could catch another glimpse of her face. "Hikari? Hey, Hika...Hikari—"

"Oh, my god, Yamato," Yamato's mother said, her voice tight and almost inaudible compared to the noise surrounding them. "Is that _blood?_ "

Everyone quieted immediately. Without releasing his sister, Taichi's head snapped up to find the blond boy. At first, when he saw Yamato, who was carrying Takeru, he saw no such thing. He almost didn't realize that Takeru was not awake. But when he started to move closer, he saw dark red streaks.

Indeed there was blood, and Takeru was covered in it. His clothes were tattered beyond repair, and he was as pale as Hikari was.

The relief in Taichi's chest shifted to dread.

"We gotta get 'im to a hospital," Yamato demanded instantly. " _Now."_

His father was already reaching for a set of keys. "Ok, let's go. I can take—"

"No," Yamato snapped, his grip on his brother tightening almost possessively. He didn't seem to care that his entire body was trembling. "I got him."

"But—"

Yamato shook his head frantically. "I said, _I've got him._ "

"...ok," Ishida-san said after several heartbeats of tense silence, with a brief nod. Yamato wasn't giving him a choice. "C'mon."

"We should take Hikari, too," Taichi said loudly, not hesitating to follow Yamato. "She's fainted."

"All right. Let's get them to the van. Hurry, hurry, hurry—"

It only took a few minutes to do so. By the time they made it to the parking lot, it was decided that everyone involved in the battle was to be at least looked over at the hospital, even if they protested. Everyone who could fit piled into Yamato's father's van and Takeru and Yamato's mother offered to take the remaining kids, even though it was obvious that she wanted to be in the same vehicle as her children.

Yamato went in first, sliding Takeru into the seat behind the driver's side as though he was made of glass. Then he was climbing in beside him, eyes never leaving Takeru's face.

With Agumon and Sora's help, Taichi gently placed Hikari in the seat beside him. She did not look physically harmed, but regardless, they tried to be as careful as possible when they buckled her in. The lack of color in Hikari's cheeks was extremely unsettling. When everyone was in safely, Ishida-san closed the van door and hastily made his way toward the driver's side to start the vehicle.

"...Takeru's gonna be ok, Yamato. Jou said he's just exhausted."

It was Gabumon who had spoken, and in such a low voice that Taichi almost hadn't heard him. But it was obvious Yamato did, because he pulled Takeru's head to his chest, holding him close, and murmured hollowly, "Yeah."

Tokomon whined in Gabumon's arms, looking near-tears as he said, "But humans aren't supposed to look _grey._ "

Another wave of dread pulsed through Taichi when he saw Yamato squeeze Takeru's hand, lips pursed into a thin line. "I know."

Something in Taichi's blood said it didn't matter that they had won the battle against ghosts haunting Takeru. He knew better than to ask what exactly had happened. Seeing the way Yamato held Takeru—seeing the blood smeared across Takeru's skin and clothes, and Hikari's ashen face—told Taichi that there was a whole new battle awaiting them soon.

It wasn't going to be pretty.


	4. Conversation

**Trigger warning:** implied self-harm.

 **a/n:** I wrote this last week, and I wasn't going to post it. It's kind of trash. But that's what this collection is! Hell over Me's trash can. XD Enjoy.

* * *

 **setting:** ch 18

* * *

"What is it, Jou?" Yamato rounded on him instantly as his father guided a shaky Takeru away from them. "Do you see Takeru right now? I don't have time—"

"I know," Jou interrupted with a quick nod. "I'll keep it short. I promise."

The heavy glare in Yamato's icy blue eyes dimmed somewhat, but he still looked incredibly pissed. He crossed his arms over his chest with a frown that screamed impatience, shifting his weight onto his good leg. "I'm listening."

Jou's eyes weaved over to where Takeru was, and his heart squeezed a little when he saw Takeru looking back at him with uneasy, panicked eyes. It was a terrible sight, seeing him so frightened. Just like their first trip to the digital world, when Takeru was seven years old again, too young, too vulnerable, with kids not much older than him to look after him. His watery, broken plea from a few minutes ago echoed in his head:

 _"You didn't tell him, did you?"_

 _"_ Please _, Jou. Please don't."_

Jou had witnessed panic attacks before. Hell, he'd experienced them _himself_. He knew exactly how terrifying they could be, and Takeru should not have to sit through another one by himself. Nobody deserved that.

And keeping the marks he saw on Takeru's arms a secret was not a good idea. It was dangerous. It was not going to help Takeru in any way, shape, or form. It was only going to make things worse. For Takeru, and for his family.

But Takeru seemed so desperate and fearful. And it was not Jou's secret to share. He did not want to break Takeru's trust.

(He also did not want Yamato to bite his head off. And Yamato looked ready to do so. Jou was a dead man walking if he kept this kind of information from him.)

"Jou?" Gomamon whispered curiously from his place by Jou's feet.

"I think Takeru's been having panic attacks," he said after a short pause.

Yamato's response was immediate: his eyes popped; his whole body went still. But the shock faded and the glare returned in just a few moments. "Well, I can see that. He wouldn't even let us touch him—"

"No, not just now," Jou went on. "Frequently. He was hyperventilating and he said—" He stopped, caught with indecision. "You should watch him for a while."

"Are you trying to tell me how to look after my little brother?" Yamato asked in a dangerously calm voice, with his eyes narrowed. "I know how to look after _my own little brother,_ Jou."

"I know, I know! I wasn't saying that. Just—gah—" He rubbed his forehead, which was caked with sweat. It was too hot. He was baking underneath the summer sun. He didn't know where he was going with this. He'd already promised Takeru, and what a stupid choice that had been. How was he supposed to tell Yamato that Takeru was harming himself without actually _saying it?_ What if Takeru did it again, behind Yamato's back? What if he—?

"Spit it out already," Yamato demanded.

"Hey, don't yell at him," Gomamon snapped with a glare of his own.

"No, it's fine, Gomamon," Jou said hurriedly. "I just. Yamato... Takeru is _not_ ok. Mentally. He's in... a dangerous situation. I... I don't think you should leave him alone—"

"God, Jou, what does that even _mean?_ What are you trying to tell me?"

Jou hesitated. He opened his mouth twice. Once to spill what he knew. Another time to deny it. But before any words could come out, though, Yamato's father was walking over to them with a grim look on his face.

Oh, no. Jou's first thought was, _Takeru's going to run off again without somebody there to watch him._ Which would not be good at all. Only a moment later did he realize that Gabumon had stayed behind, which offered a little relief. Gabumon would keep him safe.

"Hey, kid, you have to actually _use these_ if you want your ankle to get better," Yamato's father said instantly, forcing the crutches into Yamato's arms. Then he faced Jou. "I'll take you home if you want. But we gotta go. Takeru needs to get somewhere cool. He's probably got a sunburn—"

"Yeah, ok, we're going," Yamato said with a nod. "Let's go, Jou."

Jou had no choice but to obey. He wasn't going to deny him, either. Not with Takeru like this. And even if he _did_ say something else, if he did tell Yamato to wait, it wasn't like Yamato would listen to him. Takeru was always Yamato's first priority.

"Should we call Koushiro and the others?" was what came out instead as they hurried toward Ishida-san's van.

Yamato released a heavy groan. "Damn. I forgot about them."

"I can—"

"No, it's not a big deal. I'll call him," Yamato muttered, but the expression on his face told Jou he was not happy about it. He stopped only to fish his phone out of his pocket. "Ugh, hold on. I have to—"

He was struggling to dial Koushiro's number now that he was leaning on his crutches for support. Jou started to offer something, but Yamato was already pissed. He wasn't going to add fuel to the flame. He knew from past experience how bad of an idea _that_ was.

Yamato kept the conversation with Koushiro short. Which was really hard to do, because Koushiro had a burning curiosity that never died. He asked more questions than anybody Jou knew.

(Yamato was the most impatient person Jou knew, however.)

Seconds later, they were moving toward Ishida-san's van, and Takeru looked just as anxious as he did before. Takeru's haunted eyes captured Jou's in an instant, and Jou found himself unable to keep his gaze.

It didn't matter. Yamato said, "Hey, Teek, you're not too hot, are you? The air's cool enough for you? Or is it too cold?"

"It's fine," Takeru murmured robotically in a hoarse voice, shrinking away from Yamato's outstretched fingers and looking toward the window. He tucked his arms closer to himself almost protectively.

Yamato looked incredibly hurt, for a split second. But he nodded, and nobody else dared to speak again for the rest of the ride.


	5. School

**a/n:** This should have been up about six months ago. I wrote it back in December. I never liked it, but I miss this story, so... I went back and made several tweaks. I hope it's not too bad now. Enjoy. :)

* * *

 **setting:** post-ch 24

* * *

Takeru rubbed an eye sleepily, not ready for the day to start. It was the first day of a new term, he knew, but school was the last place Takeru wanted to be. Dread was like a poison sinking deep into his veins, woven permanently into his blood. He shuddered at the thought of what was to come. Too many people. He was starting to hate crowds.

And he hated himself more thinking that. He used to _enjoy_ being around people. Sure, there were days when he wanted to be by himself, but he really liked the company of others. Now, the thought of talking to his own friends made him extremely nervous. How long would it be before he could enjoy it again? Weeks? Months?

Across the counter, Patamon was nibbling on a piece of warm toast, noticeably chirpier than his human partner. His expression, however, was solemn as he looked at Takeru. Especially when he realized that Takeru had not touched his breakfast. "Your mom said you didn't have to go today if you didn't want to."

Takeru chewed the inside of his lip. "She'll only worry even more."

Patamon paused, as if mulling over his next response. But Takeru was right: staying home would only cause unnecessary concern, and it would also delay the inevitable. If he chose not to go to school today, it would still be an obstacle he'd have to face tomorrow. He knew Patamon would stay with him without hesitation if he asked—and so would Onii-san, for that matter; he'd already sent him texts this morning asking if he was ready or if Takeru wanted him to stay home with him—but he had already put enough stress on them. It had taken him _this_ long for Yamato to let him stay at his place by himself. There was no need to burden his brother or partner with his pathetic fears.

Except that was exactly what he was currently doing. Patamon's big blue eyes defined worry, and Takeru was unsure of how to put that worry to rest. He could not lie. Even if he wanted to, Patamon would see right through him, just like he did all summer.

"You shouldn't force yourself to do something you're not ready to do," Patamon said eventually. Whispered Takeru's name when he did not offer a reply.

"Nothing good will come out of skipping school," he murmured. "I'll only get behind."

He supposed he should be grateful. School offered some sort of distraction. It was better than staying home alone all day, with only his thoughts for company. Throughout his whole break, it seemed thinking got him in trouble. And even if Patamon stayed with him, it probably wouldn't be long before he became bored.

Takeru stood then, pushing his plate toward Patamon as if to ask if he wanted what was on it. This elicited a frown from his partner, which made Takeru feel guilty, and so he sighed quietly, picking up one piece of toast and taking a bite out of it.

Patamon pushed himself into the air, fluttering until he made it to Takeru's left shoulder. Pressed his cheek against Takeru's: a warm and comforting gesture that made Takeru smile. Instinctively, he reached up to scratch Patamon's head.

He finished his first piece of toast, but couldn't stomach the second. Offered it to Patamon instead, who took it after only a few moments of hesitation. After shrugging his backpack over his shoulders, he heard a knock on the door.

Takeru blinked. That was strange. Usually, Iori and Miyako waited for him near the end of the block. Very rarely would they meet him at his apartment door. Soon, however, his confusion faded, and he made his way across the flat to answer it.

 _Hikari's_ _here,_ a part of his brain told him as his hand rested on the doorknob.

He was right. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a familiar chestnut-haired girl, who smiled at him the moment their gazes met. "Hey."

"Hey," he echoed, mirroring her smile with one of his own.

Without needing to be prompted, Hikari said, "I thought maybe... we could walk to school together."

The dread coursing through his body seemed easier to ignore when she said the words. While he had been expecting to walk to school with Iori and Miyako—as he did every morning during the school year since he moved to Odaiba—he had to admit, he was nervous to face them. It wasn't that he wanted to avoid them, but it had only been a little over a week since Piemon's death. He knew that they were not going to push him to talk about it—Hikari and Yamato told him so—but that did not mean they would not be curious, which would make for an awkward trip.

Miyako was also extremely excited for the new school term, and Takeru did not particularly share her enthusiasm.

Hikari, however, was a different story. He felt no reason to hide from her. Not any more, at least. And just like with Patamon, he couldn't even if he tried. His smile widened a fraction as he readjusted his backpack. "I'd like that."

Tailmon poked her head out from behind Hikari's leg. "Good. I'd have to give you an earful if you made us walk all the way over here for nothing."

The teasing glint in her eyes told Takeru she was kidding, but her words made Takeru rub the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry you had to go out of your way."

"Don't worry about it," Hikari said. "We wanted to." Then, after meeting his eyes once again: "I told Miyako and Iori to go on ahead."

Takeru swallowed, his smile faltering. He sincerely hoped that they didn't think he was trying to push them away. It was true that Hikari's presence eased his anxieties—but he felt guilty for feeling relieved that he didn't have to see them. They were his friends, too, after all. Close ones who trusted and cared for him, at that.

Hikari rested a hand on Takeru's free shoulder and offered a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure they understand, Takeru."

"...maybe," he whispered. Then, just for a change of subject: "Um, lemme grab my phone, and I'll be ready."

He widened the door so she could wait inside, and she did after a quick second or two. A couple minutes later had them strolling down the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, with Patamon and Tailmon by their sides. It wasn't until the school came into view that Hikari said softly, "Homeroom doesn't start for another thirty minutes."

Takeru hummed. Thirty minutes was a long time. If they waited in the classroom, he was sure he would suffocate from anxiety. He was too ashamed to admit this out loud. Instead he said, "Could we take a detour, maybe?"

Hikari's head tilted to the side curiously. "What do you mean?"

Takeru's gaze scanned their surroundings, a thoughtful look etched across his features. "I dunno. Maybe we could go to the park, or something."

Hikari giggled. "That would make us late."

"What about the soccer field?" Patamon suggested. "It's really close, and there aren't many people there."

Takeru paused again, considering. It was nice out, so they could enjoy the weather while they waited. And Patamon was right: the bleachers were only a minute or two away by foot. A tempting idea, for sure.

"All right," he said eventually, with a ghost of a smile. "Let's go."

And they were walking again, a new destination in mind. Except when they rounded the corner and made it to the bleachers, Takeru's steps faltered. A familiar goggle-headed figure stood in the field, dribbling a soccer ball. Cheering him on was an equally familiar tiny dragon digimon.

Takeru sighed internally. It was wishful thinking to avoid _everyone._ Especially because Daisuke was in their class.

Especially because Daisuke chose that moment to look up, and he saw them.

"Hey, Takeru," he shouted, abandoning the ball and jogging toward the two of them. He was grinning. "What're you guys doing out here?"

Hikari slipped her hand into Takeru's inconspicuously, squeezing tenderly. Reassuringly. The gesture was once again comforting, and Takeru chewed his lip. Daisuke didn't mean any harm, and soccer was a big deal in his life. Of course he'd be out here practicing. It was one of his favorite pastimes.

"We could be asking you the same thing," Patamon said for him, but his words were not without a smile.

Daisuke's carefree grin expanded. "I was bored, and class doesn't start for a while. Guess I wasn't the only one who thought this was a good place to wait, huh?"

Takeru smiled, attempting to seem as relaxed as his digimon partner, but it must not have been convincing enough because Daisuke's brows furrowed slightly.

"Something wrong?"

Hikari looked at Daisuke and then back at Takeru, reluctant to release his hand. Takeru was now tense, heart sinking into his stomach. He did not want to say it out loud. It was pathetic. Especially because his lungs were starting to close up, foretelling an episode of panic. They were literally twenty minutes away from being in a building crowded with kids his age, and Takeru would be confined to a desk for the majority of the day. A fresh wave of anxiety seized him at the thought.

 _No. Not here. Not now._

"Let's sit down," Hikari suggested, tugging on his fingers, trying to guide him to the bleachers. "Ok?"

Takeru nodded numbly, and all of them ascended the steps, all the way to the top. Takeru tried his best to ignore the way his heart pounded so suddenly, so quickly against his ribcage. Drew in a deep breath through his nose.

"You're not ready for school yet, are you?" Daisuke spoke suddenly, his smile long gone, his expression now radiating with a solemnity that was familiar to Takeru: it was the same kind of look Daisuke had given him when he and Ken had stayed the night, only to woke up by one of Takeru's nasty nightmares.

"It's ok if you're not," Patamon repeated. "We can go back home."

"...and do what?" he asked, his voice tight.

There was no answer, and Takeru glanced down at his hands. His first instinct was to apologize—for what, he didn't know exactly. For ruining Daisuke's good mood, and for making Hikari worry, probably. He wondered how badly his anxiety was affecting her. Did her chest feel constricted, just like his? He wanted to glance up to see, but didn't trust himself. Kept his gaze lowered, trying to regulate his breathing.

They sat there for several minutes, allowing silence to take over. Takeru was breathing, slowly and quietly, counting in his head, trying not to feel humiliated that he was struggling not to have a panic attack in front of an audience.

 _One... two... three..._

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Daisuke shot up from his spot in the bleachers, eyes filled with excitement. "Let's play soccer!"

Takeru jumped in surprise and chewed his lip nervously as he looked down at his phone to check the time, simply out of nervous habit. It was the third time he'd done it. "We've only got about fifteen minutes. If we started a game, we'd be late to class."

Daisuke shrugged. "I'm always late to class. What makes today so special?"

Takeru actually chuckled at that, although it was weak and soft. He hadn't meant to, but for some reason, he just found Daisuke's suddenly casual attitude amusing. Even Hikari was giggling. "I really don't think it's a good idea."

"It'll be a good way to vent," Daisuke went on, and his expression told Takeru that he wasn't going to give in. "We don't even have to play a formal game. When I'm upset or nervous, I just come out here and kick the ball around as hard as I can. You can just do that."

Takeru paused, thoughtful. It... it was an appealing idea. He wasn't sure if it would work, but he supposed there was no harm in trying. He really _didn't_ want to go inside.

Hikari's hand came to rest on his knee, and their gazes met. Her eyes seemed to say, _It's worth a shot._

Daisuke grinned. "So?"

"Sure," Takeru said, lips curling with the promise of a smile.

"Great!" Daisuke was already hopping down the bleachers, two at a time, with questionable skill. When he hit the field he kicked off into a jog toward the left-side soccer goal. He said loudly, "What're you waiting for? C'mon!"

Patamon, Chibomon, and Tailmon stayed put. Noticeably more careful than their friend, Hikari and Takeru stepped down from the bleachers, crossing the field to met him by the netted goal. Daisuke was placing the soccer ball on the ground in front of him, with his foot poised over it as if to hold it in place.

"I'll just stand here so I can pass it back to you, 'k?" he said. "Since we only have one ball, you know."

Takeru nodded slowly. "All right."

Daisuke passed it to him with ease, and Takeru stopped the ball with his foot. When the ball was still, he reared his foot back to kick it. Daisuke waited in anticipation.

He was beyond unimpressed when the ball veered off its intended course, inching past the goal very slowly. Since Takeru was barely ten feet from the goal, he could see the disappointment written all over his friend's face.

"Takeruuuuu..." Daisuke's voice was close to a whine, and he looked like he was pouting. "C'mon, dude, you can kick it better than that. I've seen you throw a basketball with extreme force! Where's _that_ energy?"

"I guess I'm better at basketball than I am at soccer," Takeru admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Daisuke paused to retrieve the ball, and when he circled back around the goal, he said, "Imagine the ball is somebody you hate."

Takeru blinked as he passed the ball back to him. _Somebody I... hate._

Hate was a very strong word. He tended to avoid using it, until recently. And yet, despite the fact that he'd drown them out, memories of the summer pushed their way to the surface. Piemon. Saya. Sakauchi. Miyuki. He worked his jaw, drawing in a deep breath through his nose. He hated _them._ He hated them so much for taking his summer away. He couldn't change the past, he knew, but he didn't know if he'd be able to forgive them for what they did.

He drew his foot back again, poised to kick the ball. He glared at it, body tense.

 _You hurt me._

 _You hurt my friends._

"Whoa," Daisuke breathed out, eyes wide as he stared at Takeru in disbelief. In seconds, though, he looked proud. "There you go, dude! That's the spirit! I want to see another kick like _that_."

Takeru exhaled slowly, but the rage did not fade. When Daisuke passed the ball back, he was ready for it.

 _You tricked me._

 _You tried to destroy my soul._

He kicked as hard as he could.

 _You made me want to die._

The ball came back to him.

 _I can never be the person I was._

 _I can never go back the way things were._

 _It's all_ your—

Daisuke passed it back once more.

 _—fault!_

Takeru's eyes popped and he was pulled away from his reverie when Daisuke let out a loud "oof!" He'd struck him with the ball. Right in the chest.

Heaving in breath after breath, Takeru darted toward him. He hadn't meant to hit Daisuke. Guilt shot through him. "Hey, are you ok? Are you hurt?"

Daisuke rubbed his chest, where the ball made contact, but when Takeru offered a hand to help him up, he just laughed.

Takeru blinked, still breathless. "What?"

"S'nothing," Daisuke panted, shaking his head. "Remind me _not_ to get on your bad side, 'k?"

Takeru was stunned, at first. Although Daisuke was still catching his breath, he seemed amused. He was beaming as he said the words. Takeru blinked once more in pure confusion, but Daisuke's smile was contagious, and soon, he found himself smiling, too. "Ok."

"Do you feel better?" Hikari asked.

She already knew the answer—Takeru could see it in the way her eyes glistened. Maybe she'd asked out loud for clarification to put Daisuke's worries at ease as well.

"Much," he admitted softly.

"Good!" Daisuke still looked proud. "We should do this more, huh?"

Takeru parted his lips to give him an answer, but before the words were released, he heard a loud whistle coming from the direction of their school. All of them, including the digimon, looked up in surprise.

"Uh oh," Daisuke said, suddenly bug-eyed. "That's the coach." He tucked the soccer ball under his arm, adding quickly, "We should go."

"Yeah," Takeru said, equally surprised to see the figure walking toward them. A quick glance at his phone him that class had started long ago.

"Go, go, go, go, go..." Daisuke was whispering frantically as the three of them hurried up the bleachers to collect their belongings. It wasn't long before they were scrambling in the opposite direction of the coach, who picked up speed as soon as they bolted.

Takeru and Hikari were smiling the whole way.


	6. Thank You

**a/n:** I wrote this in under an hour with four hours of sleep and I'm not going to edit it, lol. Thank you for reading, and for all your lovely reviews! They make my day!

* * *

 **setting:** post-ch 24

* * *

It'd been three hours since the room had exploded with light and his brother and Hikari had yet to explain what had happened.

Yamato, knowing that both of their souls had merged, had a pretty good idea. He'd seen that light many times in the past twenty-four hours. But since Taichi was here, he had not asked about it. He was not sure if or when Takeru and Hikari would come clean to their companions about the events that transpired last night, but he knew that it would take some time. While Taichi seemed to respect this, Yamato could see in his eyes that he felt extremely left out and concerned.

Because he was supposed to go with them. In his and Sora's place, Ken and Jou had been dragged to the digital world. He couldn't imagine what it must have felt like, waiting for them to return with no guarantee that everyone would make it back alive.

Except... he did know how it felt. He just didn't want to think about it.

Yamato chewed his bottom lip. Now Taichi was gone, having left to go get them all drinks because Hikari looked like she needed some food and water desperately. Yamato was uncertain on whether or not she'd eaten today.

An unexplained wave of concern washed over him. Yamato's eyes strayed to the brunette girl sitting on the other side of a now slumbering Takeru's hospital bed. Tailmon was curled up by Takeru's hip, and Patamon was nestled into Takeru's neck. Both of them were sound asleep. But Hikari was wide awake, with her face void of color, and her eyes webbed and puffy, much like Takeru's had been when he was awake. Her expression was unreadable but her whole body screamed exhaustion. She looked so much like Takeru did in that moment that it _hurt_.

"Hey," he said, and even though his voice was quiet, he'd spoken abruptly enough to cause her to jump in surprise. "You should get some sleep."

"I'm ok," she whispered, eyes straying back to Takeru.

Damn it. That was exactly what Takeru would tell him. Expect he knew—he damn well _knew_ —that it was not true. The hollowness of her voice, the redness of her eyes... it was obvious Hikari was anything but ok.

With a sigh, Yamato stood. It was chilly in the hospital room, and he could see goosebumps on Hikari's skin. He went about fixing Takeru's blankets so he was fully covered and warm—it was a nervous habit, an action he'd performed several times since Takeru had fallen asleep—and then once again found himself looking at Hikari.

She did not look back at him. Her eyes were focused solely on the blond boy with whom she now shared an inexplicable, unbreakable bond.

Yamato stifled another sigh. Even in the past, Hikari proved to be quite stubborn when she wanted to be. She _was_ Taichi's sister, after all. But her stubbornness was rooted far more deeply than Taichi's in this moment—she was not going to rest, most likely, until Takeru was out of the hospital.

Which kind of reminded Yamato of himself.

Yamato turned and retrieved the backpack his mother had brought for Takeru from under his chair. After unzipping it, he pulled out a fleece blanket that Takeru so often used, walking over to Hikari and securely placing it around her shoulders.

Despite what she had said earlier, despite claiming she was fine, Hikari immediately seemed grateful for the blanket, melting into its warmth. Once again, her actions reminded Yamato of his brother.

In the hospital bed, Takeru stirred for a moment or two before lying still, looking much more peaceful now.

"Thank you," Hikari murmured, now looking up at him with a tiny smile.

"Sure."

Yamato circled back to his own seat, reaching for Takeru's hand and offering a gentle squeeze before sitting down. He stared at Takeru's relaxed expression and felt his chest tighten, foretelling a spell of anxiety.

He'd almost lost his brother.

Had it not been for Hikari, he _would have_ lost his brother. His only sibling—his whole _world_ —would not be here at this moment, if it weren't for the girl sitting across from him. They'd be planning a funeral instead of sitting here in a hospital.

Yamato's jaw tightened. "Thank you, Hikari."

Hikari looked up at him again, blinking in confusion and surprise. "Hmm?"

"You saved my brother's life." Yamato swallowed, trying to ignore the way his throat closed up. Takeru was _not_ dead. He needed to stop thinking about that. "So... thank you."

 _I don't know what I would have done without him._

Hikari's lips twitched again, curling into a sad smile. "I'd do it again."

There was no hesitation in her words. Yamato was reminded that, should something happen to Hikari or his brother, the other would pay the price. Yamato knew the risks of what she had done, even if it did not make much sense right now.

"I've got someone else to look after now, don't I?" he asked with a hollow smile, eyes straying back to Takeru, Patamon, and Tailmon. "You both are going to give me an ulcer. Don't go calling me Nii-san, ok?"

He said the words jokingly, without any real meaning, but it had the desired effect: Hikari laughed. A genuine, tender laugh, one he hadn't heard in a while. "Got it."

"Now go to sleep," he said, giving her the same look he'd give Takeru if he'd tried to stay up when he was obviously dead tired.

Hikari's arm folded upward so she could rest her chin on her palm, eyes already half-lidded.

By the time Yamato stood again to fix the blanket on her shoulders, she was out.


	7. Anxieties & Suspicion

**a/n:** I am aware that Taichi & Hikari have separate rooms and before that Hikari has the top bunk, but I didn't realize this until, like, May of last year and by then most of HoM was already written and... I want to stay consistent with that. The image of Taichi slipping on the ladder in the movie is forever engraved in my brain, lol.

 **trigger warning:** self-harm/implied self-harm.

* * *

 **setting:** post-ch 24

* * *

It was mid-September. Takeru and Hikari were inside the bedroom she shared with Taichi—with Hikari lying on the bottom bunk of the bed and Takeru sitting in the desk chair—silently doing their homework as the season outside gradually shifted from summer to autumn. Leaves on trees were changing colors. The blistering heat had not quite dissipated, but it was getting significantly cooler at night.

Despite the fact that Takeru had survived the first few weeks of the new term, school wasn't really getting easier. The crowd was still a lot to take in, and he found himself leaving the classroom with Hikari a lot during their lunch period or during their passing breaks just to calm his nerves. He walked to school with Hikari on several occasions, and a few times with Miyako and Iori out of guilt. Being around them was slowly becoming less awkward, but even so, Takeru could see it in their eyes that they were still confused.

Takeru bit his lip. That confusion would not fade until he told them the truth, he knew. Daisuke had handled it pretty well, and even offered to help him despite not knowing what was going on inside his head. And it wasn't like Takeru _wanted_ to lie to them, or anyone. He'd lied enough over the summer. They deserved the truth.

It didn't help that Patamon was spending a few hours in the digital world to regain his strength. He'd be back before sundown so Takeru had company overnight, but Takeru still missed him dearly and sought comfort in his presence.

The words on Takeru's notebook distorted out of focus the deeper he pondered over this, unaware just how deeply he was in his thoughts until Hikari's fingers brushed against his shoulder.

"Do you want some tea?" she asked softly. "My mom made some earlier. It might help calm you."

Takeru inhaled slowly and bestowed her with a tiny smile. "Sure. Thank you."

She nodded and slid off her bed with ease. Takeru looked back at his notebook, trying to solve the problem he'd written out on the page. Mathematics was never his strong point. His brows furrowed in concentration, forcing himself to not become imprisoned by his thoughts. Thinking always got him in trouble, even before the events of this summer.

Fighting back a shudder, Takeru inwardly shook his head. Right. No thoughts about this summer. He needed to focus on his homework.

His fingers tightened on the metal spiral of his notebook, and he stared intensely at the page as though simply looking at it would give him the answer he needed. Absentmindedly his index finger brushed against the tip of the spiral, retracing the steps of the algebraic equation before—

"I don't understand," he muttered, now glaring at the offending math problem. "What do I do next?"

Frustration brewed in his stomach. This wasn't working. Literature was more his thing.

 _Damn it._

Without thinking about it, he withdrew his hand from around the sharp tip of the metal spiral and hissed when the sudden action caused pain. A glance down showed him that he'd pierced through his flesh, not deep enough to draw blood but deep enough to hurt. The mark was small and thin and white, almost like a freshly-healed paper cut.

Takeru paused, studying it closely as though in a trance, all thoughts on homework abandoned in favor of inspecting the tiny wound. Then his gaze slowly traced each crease on his fingers, his palm, his wrist, before stopping at the start of his sleeve. The marks hidden underneath the fabric was a secret he thought he'd die keeping to himself.

Robotically, Takeru gazed back at the metal piece poking out at the edge of his notebook. It was sudden and unintentional, sure, but... Takeru couldn't help but be reminded of the only thing that quieted the storm of thoughts raging inside his brain when Piemon's ghosts had been haunting him.

Memories attacked him in waves. That first time, when Miyuki had threatened him. And another after a vicious nightmare. Another then again when his friends were talking in his living room, blissfully unaware of what he was doing behind his bedroom door...

No. _No._

He'd been clean for a little while. Patamon and Hikari were constantly with him when he needed to talk. And he also had his brother, who had found out on his own what he'd been doing over the summer. He remembered the hurt reflecting in Yamato's eyes that day in the hospital when he'd saw the scars. He remembered the way his voice cracked when he'd asked how long. He couldn't hurt his brother like that again. He was... he didn't need to do it. He didn't. He could find another distraction.

Even with that thought in his mind, it was an urge that was so hard to ignore. Takeru's gaze found his finger again. It... it was a release that worked so quickly, drawing his attention away from the mess inside his brain. All he'd have to do was press a little harder and then there would be blood, right? He wanted to. He really, really wanted to.

Because it was addicting.

Because it was easy.

Because it would help.

His memories, his secrets, his anxieties about his friends... they'd all be silent for a bit.

"Takeru..."

Takeru jumped upon hearing his best friend's voice, eyes popping wide as he was brought back to reality. He'd been so consumed by his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed she'd entered the room again. He'd been so distracted he'd forgotten _where he was_ —in Hikari's bedroom. There was a forlorn expression on her face.

There wasn't any blood. But it was obvious that Hikari knew what he'd been thinking about.

"It was an accident," he blurted without thinking, shooting up from the chair and whirling around. "It wasn't on purpose—I d-didn't—not this time, I didn't—"

Hikari was quick to find a place to set their mugs of tea. When her hands were free, she reached for his arm. "Takeru, hey, it's ok. I know."

"I—" _wasn't going to,_ was what he wanted to say to her, hoping to sound reassuring, but he wasn't entirely sure that was true, and he couldn't lie. Not to her. And so what came out instead was: "I'm sorry."

"Hey." Her hands were now resting on his shoulders. "It's ok, Takeru. Don't be sorry."

But he repeated the words again despite what she said, because he had to. Because he'd been so close. Guilt was heavy inside his chest.

"Let's sit," she murmured, maintaining eye contact as she said the words and guided him back to the desk chair. "It's ok, really, Takeru. Do you still want the tea?"

Takeru swallowed before nodding shakily, ignoring the way his eyes burned with tears. She handed him the mug carefully. Slowly. Takeru took it, careful not to burn his tongue as he brought it to his lips. "Th-thanks."

Hikari gave him a warm smile in response, but for a moment Takeru saw a sliver of worry and panic in her eyes. This was enough for him to open his mouth to apologize again, but before the words left his lips, she said, "Let's take a break from homework, alright?"

"...alright," he echoed quietly. Then, softly: "It really was an accident."

"I believe you, Takeru."

"I thought..." He paused, uncertain. "I thought that... it'd be over. You know, since the ghosts were gone. But... I'm still scared. I still have nightmares. I still have panic attacks. I can't shake the feeling that I'm going to wake up and something is going to be staring at me or—" A shaky breath. "I still think about what the ghosts did. About..."

He was too ashamed to say it out loud. But he didn't have to. Hikari understood well enough. "You went through so much, Takeru. It's gonna take some time for you to heal."

How much time? Takeru chewed his lip, troubled. Yamato and Gabumon had told him something similar while he'd been in the hospital. But he wanted it to stop _now._ He felt pathetic, and he felt helpless. Even though the spirits could no longer reach him physically, they still found a way to haunt him.

"You know," Hikari went on, meeting his gaze again, "if you slip and fall, it's ok. You've got friends who will help you get back up. And the others will understand that you aren't ready to talk about what happened. About our crest."

I'm _here to help you get back up,_ was added silently.

Takeru drew in another deep breath through his nose, nodding again. Even with his throat closing up, he offered a watery smile, pulling his sleeves over his hands so he wouldn't look at the thin mark on his index finger. "Thanks, Hikari."

She squeezed his shoulder before releasing it, and Takeru took another sip of his cooling tea.

The door was cracked, and a confused, concerned, and slightly suspicious Taichi stood in the hall, quietly listening to their conversation. His expression was unreadable. Wordlessly, he made his way to the door, slipping out quietly, wondering why his sister had referred to her crest as "our crest."


	8. In Sync

**a/n:** ahaha, so this one is... safe and fluffy and light. No warnings. :) Hikari and Takeru's friendship is so adorable. I love them. Thank you for reading! :D

* * *

 **setting:** post-ch 24

* * *

Takeru felt incredibly _awful._

It was as though he was being stabbed by the sharpest of needles, from the inside. His body felt uncomfortably warm and bloated, and he could not figure out why. Was it something he did? Was it something he ate? It was forever a mystery.

This put him in an understandably... sour mood, of sorts. But the last thing he wanted to do was bring down the spirits of those around him, and so sat quietly miserable on the sofa, knees pulled up to his chest, hands tenderly cradling his abdomen. He really, _really_ wanted to throw up and stay curled up under a mountain of blankets to wait out the sudden, strange cramps.

It was a weekend in early October. The weather was supposed to be nice for the next week and him and the rest of the Chosen were meeting at Sora's to discuss some event to celebrate the Odaiba Memorial because, after all that had transpired over the summer, they'd missed that special date. Takeru chewed the inside of his cheek; it wasn't that he'd intentionally skipped out on a such an important occasion, but the first of August was around the time time when Saya and Sakauchi had created a chaotic, unnatural windstorm that landed his brother in the hospital with a wiped memory and a sprained ankle. And with the stress of a new school term, it had taken a while for things to settle down enough for them to schedule a day to meet.

 _Deep breath,_ Takeru thought to himself, half because he didn't need to think about such haunting memories like ghosts and school on such a happy, sunny day; and half because if he didn't draw in slow, measured breaths he was sure he'd empty his stomach all over Sora's nice furniture. Anxiety _on top of_ the cramps was definitely _not_ helping.

"You don't look so hot."

That was probably because Takeru didn't _feel_ so hot. Takeru's head snapped up. It was Mimi who had spoken, and she appeared deeply concerned. Takeru swallowed slowly, head leaning back against the back of the couch, meeting her gaze with webbed eyes. The only thing he could manage in response was a soft, croaky hum.

Her hand came down to brush against his forehead, but then she frowned and concluded that he did not seem feverish. That made sense, because Takeru's symptoms didn't really line up with a fever, except for the mysterious nausea and hot and cold flashes.

"Hmm." Mimi tapped her chin, sitting down beside him on the sofa. "You're still really pale. Do you want me to get Yamato? He can call your dad and take you back home."

Takeru shook his head. Apart from feeling inexplicably fatigued, his stomach was the only thing that was bothering him at the moment. He could probably handle it, for now. It would go away eventually. After all, he'd been fine this morning—his body only really started acting up on the way over here. Maybe all he needed was to sit down for a moment, let his stomach settle. Maybe it was just like, motion sickness from the car ride or something.

Besides, his dad had already made one trip out here, and Yamato was already back outside, enjoying the crisp autumn air and talking with some of the others who had arrived around the same time they did, most likely Jou or Koushiro.

"I'm sure Sora will understand if you go home," Mimi went on, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "We can catch you up to speed later. You might feel better if you're laying down."

Takeru's head came to rest on his knees and he murmured, "It's not so bad."

"Honey, you're curled up away from the crowd in the fetal position. I'm sure that counts as _bad_."

The words were said in humor, but there was a tinge of concern lingering in her voice that made Takeru feel guilty. Why was he always worrying his friends? He'd put them through enough already.

"And you know," she persisted, squeezing his shoulder gently, "it's ok to admit that you feel lousy. Or... or that you're not ready to be here. Around so many people."

Slowly, Takeru peeled one eye back open and peered up at her. Sincerity and understanding glistened in her gaze, which made Takeru feel even worse. Could she read him that easily? Did she think that the cramps were a physical symptom of his anxiety? He knew from experience that nervousness could make him feel physically ill. He'd dealt with it before. But never had it been this bad.

Takeru opened his mouth to speak but before he could, the door opened to reveal an excited Miyako, a smiling Sora, and his older brother.

"...guess that's what he meant by—hey, what's going on? Takeru, are you ok? What happened?"

Takeru groaned internally. Great. Just what he needed. An audience.

Yamato was already making his way to the sofa, crouching down in front of him and cupping both of his cheeks in his hands so they were looking into each other's eyes. Miyako and Sora had gone respectfully quiet, smiles dropping from their faces and gazing at him with worry.

"Did he have a panic attack?" he asked Mimi in a whisper, hopefully quiet enough so Miyako and Sora did not hear.

But Takeru definitely heard. His stomach folded on itself again, this time in embarrassment and shame, and he hurried to assure Yamato that he was fine, but Mimi said first, "No, he just doesn't feel so good."

Yamato's eyes widened.

"It's just a stomach ache," Takeru rambled, hoping his words would ease the concern that seemed permanently etched across his brother's face. He tried to smile and was unsure if he was successful because Yamato's frown didn't disappear.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's probably just from the car, Nii-san. Please don't worry," Takeru assured.

"...but that doesn't make sense. You've never gotten motion sickness before."

Suddenly a phone beeped, stealing Takeru's reply. Miyako fished her phone out of her pocket and murmured an apology under her breath before she frowned. "Oh, no! Hikari says she can't come. She's having really bad cramps. Dang. Poor girl."

Sora made a pitying noise as she peered over seemingly to read the message pulled up on Miyako's phone as well. "That's alright. Tell her to rest up, and stay hydrated, ok?"

Takeru's eyes widened slowly, bit by bit, as both of their words sank in. Hikari was sick, too? Was that why he felt so horrible? But why was Hikari sick? What was wrong with her? Worry flooded through him.

"Cramps?" he echoed in bewilderment, looking from their faces to his brother, and then back at Mimi. "Cramps." He repeated it with exaggerated seriousness. "Is... is that what this is?"

Sora and Miyako seemed deeply confused upon hearing his question, but Takeru paid no heed. He barely even noticed. Mimi stared for a moment. Two moments. Three. And then her eyes mirrored Takeru's, and her lips formed an 'o' shape as realization hit her.

"Oh, my gosh," she whispered sympathetically, "you feel it, then, too? Poor thing. You and Hikari both."

"What?" Takeru asked, now starting to panic. "What does it mean? Is Hikari ok?"

"Oh, sweetie, she'll be fine," Sora assured instantly as she saw Takeru's anxious expression. She crossed the floor and sat on the other side of Takeru, rubbing his back slowly. "She just needs to rest for the day, and she'll feel better." Then, after a pause: "Did you say you felt sick, too?"

"Wow," Miyako said, gazing at him in wonder. "I know you guys are super close, but you must be _really_ in sync to be sick at the same time."

Crap. Takeru's eyes popped again, panic now coursing through him, as quickly and fluidly as water in a river. Miyako must have been kidding as she spoke, but she didn't know just how _in sync_ he and Hikari really were.

"Um, n-no, I'm fine," he said quickly, trying to stand but it was incredibly difficult when his stomach was killing him and he was surrounded by people. But he knew he obviously didn't _look_ fine, with the way he was curled up on the couch, clutching his stomach, waiting for the pain to pass. "Just... um. Uhh—"

He really had no idea how to explain this. There was really no way he could tell them—especially without Hikari here—that the reason he was sick was because he and Hikari's souls had combined and now shared a physical and emotional connection.

"Do you want me to have Dad come pick us up?" Yamato offered, now looking awkward for some reason. "Or... or do you want to walk, since the car ride made you feel sick? I can walk with you," he added when Takeru looked back at him, flustered.

"Um..." Takeru really needed to find out what to say, and fast. Because "um" and "uh" weren't good enough. Because multiple people were staring at him and what if Hikari really wasn't going to be ok? He should message her. "I think—"

On the coffee table, his phone buzzed repeatedly and Mimi was the one to reach for it. Takeru inwardly cheered; it gave him a distraction, gave him more time to ponder over his response.

"It's from Hikari," Mimi said as she handed it to him.

 _Hey, Miyako said you feel sick. I'm really sorry. I didn't know you'd get sick too._ It buzzed again as soon as he finished reading it, indicating that she'd sent him another text. _Are you doing ok?_

Another wave of fresh guilt washed over Takeru. If she was sick, that meant this was only a remnant of what she was feeling. She probably felt twice as bad, and she was asking if _Takeru_ was ok?

 _I'm fine, are YOU ok? What's wrong?_ he typed and hit send. Then, on a whim: _Do you want me to come over? Misery loves company._

He wasn't sure if she'd be up to it, and he would understand if she wanted to be by herself. While waiting for a reply, Takeru set his phone in his lap and murmured, "Um, I'm sorry, Sora. I think... I think I need to go."

If she did want his company, Hikari's apartment was only about a ten- to fifteen-minute walk from here. He could make it. He could. He hoped.

Sora looked mildly confused, but then she smiled warmly at him. "Don't be sorry, hun. I wouldn't want to keep you here if you don't feel well. We can message you details about the party later."

He smiled back, even though the gesture was watered down. Yamato was offering to help him up when his phone vibrated again.

 _Sure. :) But don't tell Nii-san I said that cos I'm still trying to convince him that I'm fine by myself._

Takeru stifled a laugh at that. _Deal._

When he was fully on his feet, Yamato said, "I'm walking you home."

His tone left no room for an argument, and half of Takeru didn't even want to fight him because his stomach was still bothering him. He nodded quietly. "Ok."

"Give him some Midol," Mimi whispered as they passed her.

Yamato rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shut up, Mimi."

Takeru blinked, heavily confused; and he wasn't the only one. Sora looked left out, like they were sharing an inside-joke that didn't include her (which was probably exactly what had just happened). Miyako said, "Takeru doesn't need Midol. He's a boy."

"It was a joke," Mimi and Yamato said simultaneously.

A few minutes later, Sora was hugging him good bye and telling him to feel better. Mimi patted his shoulder again affectionately and there was something in her eyes that Takeru couldn't quite decipher—worry? Amusement? Sympathy?—that only made Takeru feel even more out of the loop, just like Sora.

Yamato quickly explained the situation to Jou and Koushiro (with Takeru strategically avoiding their watchful gazes) before they were heading North. Takeru murmured, "Hikari's apartment is closer. We can walk there. She, um, she said she wouldn't mind company."

Yamato nodded. "Alright. You sure you don't want me to stay with you?"

"I'll be ok, Nii-san. I promise."

"You were doubled over on the couch like you'd been stabbed," Yamato went on. "...it scared me."

Takeru looked at his hands in shame. He really hadn't meant to worry his brother. "I'm sorry." Then, after a moment: "Hey, Nii-san?"

"Hmm?"

"...what's Midol?"

There was a long, awkward pause until finally Yamato cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sure Hikari will explain it once you get to her place."

His response only confused Takeru even more.

* * *

By the time they made it to Hikari's, Taichi was walking out the door. He regarded Takeru with a cryptic expression—an odd mixture of suspicion, confusion, worry, and something else that Takeru couldn't place but it made him feel uneasy all the same.

But the expression soon melted away as he grinned widely at the two brothers. "Sorry, kiddo. She's not feeling well. You can totally escort _me_ to Sora's, if you'd like."

Yamato rolled his eyes. "He's staying here with Hikari in your place. Guess that leaves only me to 'escort' you."

"Whaaa—?" Taichi seemed taken aback, and he put his hand on his chest dramatically, pretending to look offended. "Is that why she sent me away? Because you were coming?"

Takeru gave him a tiny, slightly guilty smile, lacking the energy to keep the joke going. He was fighting the urge to cradle his stomach again and couldn't wait to sit down. Fatigue latched onto him like a parasite, draining him of his energy at an achingly slow pace.

Yamato rested a hand on his back to support him, and Taichi's face suddenly became very solemn. "Hey, Takeru, are you ok? Don't tell me you're sick, too—"

The door was still cracked, and Hikari peered through. She was pale and looked like she was in pain, but she smiled despite that and said to Taichi, "Go have fun at Sora's, Nii-san. We'll be fine." She looked at Takeru then, guilt creeping onto her face, and then she glanced back at the two older brothers. "Please keep me updated on what everyone decides."

"Sure, sis," Taichi said, and that same mysterious expression pulled at his features again as his gaze fell upon Takeru.

Takeru shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Yamato wrapped him in a strong hug, rubbing his back. "I'll come by later to get you. Get some rest, ok? Call me if you need me." Then his eyes found Hikari. "You, too."

They both nodded before Yamato was hauling Taichi away from the door and down the stairs so they wouldn't be late. Hikari widened the door so Takeru could step inside, and he did, asking, "What happened? Did you eat something wrong?"

Hikari flushed slightly and looked away in shame before turning to sit on the sofa and beckoned for him to join her. She looked like she had been curled up in a blanket before coming to diffuse the slightly tension-filled conversation at her doorstep.

"Um." She giggled nervously, running a hand through her hair which was slightly tousled. "You're my best friend, Takeru. But I never wanted to have this conversation with you. Ever."

Takeru's eyes widened in fright. "Are you sick? Like, seriously sick?"

She shook her head and said quickly, "No! No, it's really not a big deal. I'll be fine. We'll be fine! I..."

She paused, resting a hand on her abdomen and Takeru felt a sharp pain run through his own. He bit his lip and it was all he could to do stop from groaning in pain. Hikari let out a slow breath, as if thinking the same thing.

After a few moments, she launched into an explanation about her symptoms and what they meant. Takeru remained quiet the entire time, letting her speak and just listening, eyes widening gradually, little by little, as she came to a conclusion. They were both pink in the face by the time she was done, just because of the sheer awkwardness of the topic.

"...and, for that, I'm sorry," she finished, looking at her hands.

"What for?" Takeru was now looking straight at her face, bug-eyed. "It isn't your fault that you're biologically female and... and jeez, you have to deal with this every _month?_ " He couldn't believe this. "And you just act like nothing is wrong? You're like, superwoman!"

Hikari laughed sheepishly. "Well... today was day one. The first day is always kind of bad."

Takeru nodded in understanding, because even though he was a boy he at least _could_ physically understand her pain now. He felt a piece of it, too, after all.

(And finally, Takeru was aware of the importance of Midol.)

"Still," she persisted, looking back at him with that same look of guilt. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this, too."

"Don't be, please." He did his best to smile at her. "You pulled apart your soul for me. The _least_ I could do is sit here and be miserable with you. It's not like you chose this."

She smiled back at him. Then another shooting pain consumed Takeru's abdomen and Hikari's forehead came to fall on his shoulder, her grin falling as she said, "I would so kill for a chocolate smoothie right now."

"Oh, jeez, I _know._ Me too."

Hikari reached for the nest of multiple blankets resting behind her, clumsily pulling them apart and offering one to Takeru so they could cover up. It didn't take long for both of them to become swallowed by the warmth of the fabrics and, on impulse, Hikari decided they should watch a movie.

"Maybe when our brothers come back we can convince them to stop by that place in town and bring us home something," Hikari whispered as the opening credits began to play.

"Ooh, good idea." Takeru nodded in agreement. "Although, knowing Nii-san, he'll want to feed us actual food first. I doubt he'd bring us home something with chocolate in it."

"Takeru, smoothies have fruit in them. That's got to count as actual food."

"...You're a genus, Hikari."


	9. Cold

**a/n:** This was inspired by the latest chapter of ToastyToaster22's "A Hundred Seconds of Love." **Trigger warning for mentions of blood & death.**

* * *

 **setting:** between ch 23-24

* * *

An unfamiliar, overwhelming exhaustion claimed Patamon's whole body and he did not like it.

They were in stuck in the digital world talking with Gennai about Piemon, and he was away from his partner, and Patamon did not like it.

Yamato was angry and Hikari was shaking and everyone was deathly quiet and he did not like it.

Then they were heading back to Earth and they weren't letting Patamon see Takeru and he did not like it.

Now, they were in a cab of sorts and Patamon was pressed against a dozing Hikari's chest, feeling extremely sleepy but unable to _actually_ sleep. How could he be tired at a time like this? Takeru was in a foreign place surrounded by strange machines, unconscious and hurt, and Patamon ached to be there for him when he woke up. He knew Yamato was there, and so was Gabumon, so why couldn't he be there? He whimpered at the thought. It had been several hours since he last saw Takeru and he desperately wanted to see him.

Hikari shifted in her seat, seemingly forcing herself to stay awake. Patamon glanced up at her, openly confused and distraught.

"Are you ok?" Patamon asked, an unfathomable worry soon taking root in his small body as he stared at her. So much for pretending to be a stuffed toy.

Hikari swallowed and nodded shakily, but it was obvious she needed to rest. Patamon parted his lips to tell her so but Tailmon beat him to it.

"You've been up for a while. Rest your eyes a little, if you can."

In the seat on their right, Taichi was studying all three of them. He'd tried to comfort Hikari but she had turned into a stoic zombie, not reacting to his touch or voice, staring emptily at the back of the passenger's seat. At some point Taichi decided it was best to stay silent, but he kept glancing at them like he wanted to say something.

And he did say something, eventually.

"She's right." Fatigue seeped into his voice. "You look like you could sleep for days."

As expected, Hikari didn't say a word. Not even when Tailmon's tail coiled around Hikari's calf. Not even when Patamon snuggled closer to her. She was covered in goosebumps, which told Patamon she was freezing.

Taichi cleared his throat awkwardly. "I can take Patamon for a—"

He stopped when Patamon whimpered again. Patamon really wanted to stay closest to Hikari because it was almost like being with Takeru. Despite seeming cold, Hikari radiated a familiar warmth—the same warmth that surrounded Takeru on most days. He buried his face in her shirt and Hikari's grip on his little body tightened protectively.

"No," she said finally, woodenly. "I... I want to be with him. It's better this way."

Patamon didn't turn to see Taichi's expression, but he heard the hurt and confusion lacing his voice when he murmured faintly, "Alright, sis."

Everyone fell quiet. Patamon sealed his eyes shut because they were stinging and wet. He didn't want to cry. He knew Takeru had been stabilized and was ok. But it was what he saw before, in the digital world, that terrified him to no end.

He'd watched Piemon hurt Takeru. Badly. He could only sit and stare and cry as Piemon laughed and mocked him, as he cut deep into his flesh, as his ghost servants sliced and sliced until Takeru's body was bathed in a blanket of crimson liquid.

Patamon didn't know humans could bleed that much.

And then they'd disappeared for several haunting moments, before reappearing on the roof of the building in which Takeru had been trapped. It was too high up, and Takeru was so close to the edge. Human bodies were so fragile. If Patamon fell from that height, sure, it'd hurt. But he would survive. If Takeru fell from that height Patamon was sure every one of his bones would shatter like glass.

And then Patamon's world had gone completely black. He could barely remember anything except for the cruel, bitter cold that seeped into his being like water on fabric. Not an ounce of light or warmth.

Patamon had experienced death before. But that hadn't hurt at all—it was kind of like going to sleep. He felt warm and safe and knew without question that Takeru was going to take care of him until he woke up.

This time, though, he was trapped in an icy embrace with no escape. There was no guarantee that he would come back because _Takeru_ wouldn't come back. It was scary and cold and so, so _dark._

Patamon sniffled. He missed Takeru. He ached for Takeru.

He froze when Tailmon hopped up off the floorboards of the cab and into Hikari's lap, curling around him as if to comfort him. Hikari's lukewarm, tender fingers trekked up and down his spine. It was an action Takeru often performed to coax him into slumber.

Tailmon licked his cheek twice. Patamon relaxed slightly, allowing the tears to break loose and dampen his fur.


	10. Reveal (Part One)

**a/n:** I'm sorry this is so late! But it's here, the chapter I've been wanting to write since I posted this! :D Maybe it's silly, and dramatic, and weird, and rushed, but idc! I still liked writing it! :) I hope everyone enjoys part one of this Reveal! (PS, please, nobody hate on poor Taichi. He's just confused. I promise he's not a bad guy. And according to the digimon wiki, Heaven's Charm can put digimon to sleep? If that's not confirmed, idc. I'm using it anyway because it's cool.)

 **possible tw:** implied attempted suicide. Reviews are greatly appreciated. 💛

* * *

 **setting:** post-chapter 24

* * *

Takeru drummed his fingers on the table in his father's apartment. It was late in the morning, and he was waiting, with Patamon resting in his lap, for Yamato to get dressed so they could leave for the picnic to celebrate the late Odaiba Memorial.

Last weekend had been a little bit of a mess, sure. He and Hikari were sick and missed the meeting, but as far as he knew, his sudden illness and request to leave hadn't drawn too much suspicion. He could've done without the embarrassment, though.

It was Taichi who left Takeru confused. He'd given Takeru such a weird look when he and Yamato arrived at the Yagami residence. Worry lingered deep within his gaze, but there was something stronger that made Takeru uneasy. He looked at him warily, like he was skeptical of him or something. Like he knew something.

 _Did Hikari tell him?_ he wondered, but dismissed that thought almost immediately. Hikari would have told him if Taichi knew about their souls, about their combined crest. And Taichi wasn't somebody who stood by the sidelines and waited to be told—he'd confront the person about the problem.

Except... this wasn't a problem. Was it?

Takeru's fingers curled into fists and his stomach twisted anxiously. His connection with Hikari wasn't a _problem._ Despite it almost being almost two months since Piemon's death, they both still weren't sure what all of it meant. They were still discovering new things about their bond everyday. There was still so much they hadn't discovered yet or didn't understand. But Takeru did know that this was something that couldn't be undone. It wasn't something they could go back and fix.

The proof sat just below his collarbone in the form of something similar to a tattoo. The symbol of the combined crest of Hope and Light. Takeru peeked at it slowly, curiously. He looked away when his eyes caught a glimpse of the spiderweb of scars that surrounded the marking.

Hikari didn't regret it. She'd told him that on multiple occasions, with such certainty that Takeru believed her each time. That didn't stop him from feeling guilty—she'd saved him from Piemon's demons and tied her life to his in doing so. There was nothing he could do to repay her. If he screwed up, if he did something dumb, or if he got hurt, she'd feel the consequences, no matter how big or small. And it would be all his fault.

A door clicked, and Yamato entered the room in a set of clothes that _didn't_ have flour all over them. He examined Takeru with raised brows, lips pulling into a frown. "You ok?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yes." He shook Patamon gently, rousing him from sleep. "Ready to go?"

Yamato nodded, but looked at Takeru with open concern. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

Takeru paused. He couldn't tell if Yamato was getting better at reading him or if Takeru was just getting worse at hiding things. "No, I want to go."

This was mostly true. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide from his friends forever. It wasn't fair to them, and it would be rude to decline their invitation, no matter how nervous he became. And... and he couldn't avoid _every_ outdoor activity. Maybe the more he went out, the easier it would become, right? That was what he'd been telling himself since Yamato had called after their meeting last weekend to inform him and Hikari about their plans.

"It's in the digital world," Yamato went on, still eyeing him worriedly. "You sure you're up for that? We can always ask—"

"Nii-san, it's ok. Really. I'm ok." He smiled for good measure, as wide and cheerful as he could manage. "I... I want to have fun."

Because it had been nearly two months. Because he hadn't had much fun over the summer. Because his friends didn't deserve to be blown off, to be shoved aside, to be ignored. And most of them had seemed really excited for this picnic. This included Yamato—Takeru knew he wanted to see Gabumon and bring him back to Earth for the rest of the weekend. He wasn't going to ruin that. Yamato was right. They were going to the digital world—at the beginning of the summer, he'd thought of it as a second home. That... that was still true, despite all of what happened. He couldn't avoid it, either.

He couldn't let his anxiety control him. He couldn't let his anxiety ruin his relationship with his friends. He could do this. He could. This would be good for him, wouldn't it?

"Alright," Yamato said finally, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. "But if you change your mind, or if you need to leave, just ask."

"I'm sure they'll understand," Patamon added around a yawn.

Takeru nodded, smiling again, before standing and allowing Patamon to take his customary place on his head. Yamato turned around to grab the sponge cake they had prepared (or, more accurately, _Yamato_ had prepared—Takeru just sat and handed him the ingredients because anything that involved food he was sure to mess up) and then reached for his keys. "All set?"

"Yeah," Takeru murmured.

They slipped out of the flat without another word.

* * *

"I don't think we thought this through."

"No, I don't think we did."

Takeru and Yamato had showed up to Koushiro's apartment in the middle of their conversation, which made them both understandably confused. Takeru raised his brows, frowning in concern. What was wrong?

"Did something happen?" he asked.

Miyako turned to look at him, blinking in surprise at his sudden question. She tucked the box of treats under her arm, shaking her head. "Well, it's just... you know sometimes, when we go through the portal, we don't always land on our feet..."

"It wouldn't be very fun if we ruined the picnic because the dishes everyone has prepared ended up on the ground," Koushiro finished as she trailed off.

"If we focus really hard, maybe nobody will fall," Mimi offered helpfully with a grin.

"Right." Miyako rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Confidence and optimism is all we need to keep our balance. Never mind the fact that we're going to be sucked through a computer and digitized."

"Well," Takeru murmured quietly, "we all have containers for our food. It should be fine."

"This isn't the first time we've had a picnic," Yamato pointed out. "What'd you do last time?"

Miyako rolled her eyes. "Yamato, that was like, three years ago. None of us remember."

"Has it really been three years?" Mimi blinked in surprise. "Wow. Time sure does fly, doesn't it?"

"We should do picnics in the digital world all the time," Poromon said.

"I'm _pretty_ sure we just had containers, like Takeru said," Patamon said helpfully.

Takeru studied the group of people now gathered in Koushiro's bedroom. Mimi had made (and very meticulously decorated) about two dozen cupcakes, with Sora's help. They both sat on Koushiro's bed. Koushiro was spinning slowly and absentmindedly in his desk chair. According to him, his mother had made them all onigiri rice balls and they were chilling in the fridge while they awaited the arrival of the rest of their friends). Miyako was leaning against the wall by Koushiro's computer desk; she had brought a variety of snacks from her parent's convenient store, ranging from healthy to unhealthy. Iori was quietly sitting on the floor with Upamon and Poromon.

The picnic wasn't until noon, and it only a couple minutes passed eleven-thirty. After a few minutes, Takeru and Yamato were informed that Jou was on his way. Miyako, moments later, told them that Ken and Daisuke were heading in this direction, finally.

"'You didn't hear this from me, but the reason we're late is because Daisuke spent all morning fretting about whether or not his recipe was good enough for everyone to try.'" Miyako smiled at her phone as she relayed Ken's message aloud for everyone to hear. "That's sweet."

Mimi made a cooing noise. Sora smiled. Before anyone could give a verbal response, Takeru's own cell phone beeped, and he blinked.

Hikari sent: _Nii-san and I are a couple minutes away. We ran into Jou, too._

Takeru echoed the words out loud, just as Miyako had. He was incredibly relieved to know that she was so close.

"Well, that makes everyone," Poromon said.

"Yeah," Miyako said, looking down at her partner affectionately. "Now we wait."

* * *

"Well... that worked out surprisingly well."

"Are you kidding? The frosting on the cupcakes are all ruined!"

"I'm sure they're just as tasty, Mimi!"

"I'm sure, too!"

"Me too!"

The banter went on for a while, with Mimi opening her container of cupcakes with a pout, carefully flipping them, trying not to get frosting on her fingers; the digimon glancing up at the box in her hands excitedly; and the rest of the Chosen steadying themselves from a not-so-bad-after-all landing. (Takeru may or may not have looked at the Mimi's cupcakes, messed up or not, with a longing expression. Although Yamato had a perfectly good sponge cake tucked under his arm that would taste equally sweet...)

"Where should we sit?" Iori asked, shuffling the bag of prune juice pouches in his arms.

Takeru glanced around, studying his surroundings. It was... a strange place, especially for a picnic. The land before them stretched out far and wide, with very little trees. It wasn't bare like a desert, but there certainly wasn't a lot of grass, either. A nice breeze wafted through the air, not too cold, but not too warm. There was a cave close to them, which offered shade and shelter, should they need it.

Yamato seemed to think the same thing because he nodded his head in its direction. "There. It should be cooler there."

"Maybe we should have picked a more... greener place," Miyako muttered under her breath.

"Don't look at me," Koushiro said, raising his hands in mock defense. "Our digimon picked our location, remember?"

Which was true. For whatever reason, all of the digimon who weren't on earth had decided on this place. Takeru didn't know about the rest of them, but he wasn't going to crush their spirits by asking them to pick someplace else.

"Hey, what's wrong with getting a little sun?" Daisuke challenged with a grin. "It's getting colder and colder on Earth. It'll be fun to soak up some warmth, right, Ken? V-mon?"

Ken smiled at him. V-mon beamed, bouncing around him with as much enthusiasm as his human partner. (This was, perhaps, because Daisuke was holding a considerably large pot of broth, and he looked ready to consume it all, with or without the noodles.)

"Daisuke's weird," Tailmon murmured suddenly. "Who brings _hot_ food on a sunny day in the digital world?"

Hikari giggled. "Shh... he's very proud of his cooking. Let him be."

"Yeah! I'm excited. It smells good," Patamon chirped.

Tailmon rolled her eyes but remained quiet. Takeru heard Sora say, "Let's get set up."

There were many hums of agreement. The warm food was sure to get cold fast, and he could tell by the looks on everyone's faces that they needed to eat soon. (Although the look on his brother's face told Takeru that he'd seen eyeing those cupcakes. Yamato's gaze was silently telling him, "Dessert _after_ lunch. No arguments.")

Takeru sighed internally. Oh, well.

It didn't take long to get everything put together. It was Jou who brought water bottles for everyone, and Hikari and Taichi had volunteered to bring the picnic blankets since cooking was never their strong point. Daisuke was telling him he still needed to cook the noodles for his ramen, because if he'd done it beforehand they'd get soggy and, jeez, wouldn't that be a shame?

(Takeru remembered a certain conversation a while back where Daisuke had told him and Ken how much of a "disgrace" the instant noodles were. He'd be disappointed in him if Takeru told him he was very fond of instant foods.)

"I'll help you get a fire going," Agumon said helpfully. "It smells tasty, Daisuke!"

Daisuke's entire face lit up. A pleased blush dusted his cheeks. "You think so?"

"I _know_ so! My nose never fails me!" Agumon puffed up his chest with pride.

There was another round of chuckles and giggles. Takeru smiled softly as he glanced around, feeling a warmth build in his chest as he took in the expressions of his friends. Everyone looked like they were ready to have a good time. Like they were happy. And it had been a while since they were all really together like this, for reasons that didn't involve trouble in the digital world.

This felt... nice. Takeru was starting to feel genuinely glad that he'd come.

That was, until he heard a faint rumbling sound. That definitely was _not_ somebody's stomach.

"Um, Nii-san?" Takeru whispered suddenly, the smile falling from his face. "Do you hear that?"

Yamato paused, looking at him with his eyebrows raised quizzically. Then he turned his head, staring off in the distance.

Tailmon perked her ears, listening intently. On Takeru's head, Patamon went awfully still, and even Gabumon seemed on edge suddenly.

"Something's coming," Piyomon murmured, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

The ground beneath them seemed to quake as the _'something'_ drew closer and closer. Takeru squinted and walked closer to the sound, trying to get a better look. The rumbling sound grew louder. Louder.

Monochromon. Dozens of them. All running frantically, one after another. Towards _them._

"A stampede?" he whispered to himself, and before the realization of how truly _dangerous_ that was could really hit him, he heard screaming.

His head snapped up to find the source, but he couldn't. He didn't have the time to react before the world went white and fuzzy for several agonizingly long moments. In that time, Patamon's familiar weight on his head had disappeared and Takeru was aware of that fact almost instantly. Instinctively, his hands reached out, trying to find him, to keep him away from harm, but his outstretched fingers groped only air.

Takeru's vision slowly came back, and he saw Patamon on the ground, unconscious. Right in the path of the stampede, which was only minutes away.

His first thought was, _Go after him._

And he did. Takeru's legs moved without thinking, shouting his partner's name, moving blindly. Whatever had aimed that attack at him had separated him from his partner and he _couldn't_ lose his partner. Not again.

He swooped down to grab him, adrenaline pumping through him like venom. But when his hands curled around his little friend, he lost his footing. His body hit the ground hard, and dust swirled around him, threatening to consume him in heavy, billowing waves. He was on the ground and he couldn't move.

Takeru was _stuck on the ground and could not move._

The situation seemed terrifyingly familiar. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of another time he'd been trapped on the ground, unable to escape. Thinking of how he hadn't been able to breathe. Thinking of how painfully hot it had been, when the sand had climbed into his clothes and held him prisoner as a digimon had been after him and his friends...

 _"Takeru, take my hand!"_

 _"I'm right here! Follow my voice!"_

 _"Hush, hush, little boy Hope. Don't fret."_

 _How did this happen?_ flitted through his mind. _How did I get separated from...?_

A cold shock settled through him, taking root deep in his body, consuming him whole.

 _...Hikari..._

Fear skyrocketed through Takeru, heavy and strong enough to immobilize him. Patamon was unconscious in his arms and that terrifying herd of digimon was heading straight for them. He could not move; could not get himself or his partner to safety. He could only lay trembling on the ground, bruised and scared, and a flurry of thoughts echoed hauntingly in his mind:

 _If something happens to me, Hikari will suffer as well._

 _If I get hurt, she'll feel it, too._

 _If I this digimon kills me, here and now, she will die, too._

 _It'll be... it'll be all my fault._

 _What have I done?_

"Tailmon, HELP!"

The kitten digimon's name fell from his lips without warning. Light spewed around them and delicious warmth bubbled in his chest, spreading through his whole body. The space just below his collarbone burned, but the sensation was not unpleasant.

For a few suspended moments, there was silence. The only sound Takeru could hear was the powerful thrum of his heart, smashing against his ribcage repeatedly like it wanted to see the outside world.

And then the every drop of sound returned. The impact of the Monochromon's attack never came. Because Angewomon stood in front of Takeru and Patamon protectively, deflecting the blow sent in his direction with the intention of causing harm to him and his partner.

"Are you alright, Takeru?" she asked slowly without looking back at him.

Takeru stared openly at her, speechless. His D3 was aglow in his pocket, having lit up the moment Takeru had called for help. What...? Did... did Takeru's distress trigger her evolution? How could that be?

The answer, he already knew. Such a phenomenon could only be traced back to his and Hikari's bond. But even with this realization, he couldn't erase the pure shock that filtered through him upon witnessing Tailmon digivolve for _him._

Words were shouted. Loudly. Frantically. The next thing Takeru knew, Angewomon was in the sky, successfully guiding the enraged Monochromon away from him; and Yamato was kneeling next to him, scooping him in his arms. "Teek, hey, we gotta move—"

And they did move. Yamato all but carried him to safety, away from the fight now raging between probably driven by adrenaline and the desire to keep Takeru out of harm's way. In Takeru's arms, Patamon stirred and looked up at him with foggy eyes. "...Takeru...?"

Patamon wasn't the only one to say his name. It echoed around him in a flawless crescendo, but only when he heard Hikari's voice did he look up. Her expression mirrored his almost exactly—an odd blend of confusion, fear, relief, and worry. Her D3 was curled up in her palm, but he could still see the familiar light that seeped through her fingers. Just like the light that emitted from his pocket.

Then Yamato was lowering Takeru to the ground, panting. But he didn't release him. Held onto him tightly like he hadn't seen him in a long time.

"I'm so glad." It took Takeru a moment to realize that Yamato was actually shaking as he spoke. "Oh, Takeru... what were you thinking, running toward the Monochromon like that? They were going to _crush_ you. Which means I could've lost you. Again. I c-could've—"

Yamato's voice broke. Guilt swam through Takeru's body, pulling him down, down, down. When would this feeling _stop?_

"I'm sorry," he murmured thickly, aiming the apology at his brother _and_ Hikari. "I didn't..."

Hikari moved away from Taichi's protective embrace—which had slackened considerably as he caught sight of Takeru's and Hikari's D3s—and she hit the ground hard beside him. "We're ok. That's all that matters, Takeru."

The battle raged on for several minutes. Takeru watched with wide eyes as the rest of their partners—save Patamon, who was still disoriented and weak, tucked against Takeru's chest—fought to get the herd of feral Monochromon under control. He'd been so wrapped up in getting to Patamon that he didn't even realize that the rest of their partners had evolved as well.

"Takeru... how did you...?" Taichi was stunned, looking at Takeru with open confusion. "Tailmon is _Hikari's_ partner."

"Hey..." Now Miyako's attention was on the two of them. "What's... your skin is _glowing._ There, right underneath—"

"Um..." Takeru could only glance at Hikari for help, but she looked just as lost.

"We'll talk about that later," Jou said quickly, touching Yamato's shoulder and gesturing for all of them to stand again. "C'mon, everyone, let's go a little deeper into the cave. We need to make sure they don't see us by accident."

"Jou's right. If the Monochromon see us, they'll trap us in," Sora said. "They already attacked once because we were in their way."

"I wonder what could have triggered them to attack so mercilessly," Hikari murmured as she and Takeru stood to obey Sora and Jou's commands.

There wasn't time to ponder too deeply over the question, since their only focus now was staying out of their newfound enemies' sight. Yamato was on his left side, and Hikari on his right.

"How's Patamon?" Hikari whispered after a few moments of silence.

"I think he'll be ok. He just got knocked out, and he hasn't eaten a lot today, so he feels weaker after that... attack," Takeru answered just as quietly, clutching his partner tightly to his chest as he moved. Was it _even_ an attack? It had happened so quickly. Takeru wasn't sure how Patamon had gotten knocked away.

His partner had once again given into slumber, it seemed, but he was still breathing, and he didn't look like he was in too much pain. Takeru hadn't noticed until Miyako had pointed it out, but the marking on his collarbone _was_ glowing. He felt the tingling sensation the moment Tailmon evolved, but he hadn't really looked down at it.

Whether Patamon knew it or not, he was covering up the mark. But a glance over showed Takeru that Hikari's symbol was out in the open for everyone to see, so bright that it stood out even through the fabric of her dark shirt.

"That makes sense," Hikari said.

Takeru nodded and hummed, still worried for his partner despite what he'd said. He wondered if Angewomon was ok. Wondered if Patamon's lack of strength was affecting her. But if she felt weak, did... did that mean she wouldn't have been able to digivolve? Takeru inwardly shook his head. He could think about it later.

Except the person in front of them chose this moment to stop walking. Even with the light of their digivices, it was dark in this cave, and both Takeru's and Hikari's attention was focused elsewhere until she bumped smack into the person's chest.

"Wha—? Nii-san, what's wrong?" Hikari said, low and slow, like she already knew what was coming but was still holding onto one last shred of hope.

Which kind sounded like something Takeru would do.

"What's going on with you two?" Taichi asked, in such a solemn voice that it made Takeru freeze. It seemed like somebody—maybe Jou again, or Koushiro—started to protest, but Taichi interrupted. "We're plenty far out, now. And, hey, I respect your space. I do. But I'm _so_ confused, ok? And I'm worried. If you don't tell me what's going on _right now,_ I'm going to explode."

"Taichi," Yamato warned, one hand coming down to rest on Takeru's shoulder almost protectively. "Don't start this."

Takeru's heartbeat quickened with anxiety. Especially when Taichi blatantly ignored Yamato entirely and looked straight at Takeru and Hikari. Repeated calmly, "How did you get Tailmon to digivolve? And don't try to tell me you didn't. Your digivices are kind of like a tiny flashlight right now."

"I don't know," Takeru mumbled feebly. And that was partially true.

"Taichi, please." That was Mimi's voice. She was reaching for his arm. "Let it go."

"But it involves my sister!" He shook her off, which made Takeru flinch. Very rarely did he see Taichi angry. Not at him, not at Hikari. He suddenly felt very small, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. Taichi continued, "What happened between you two? Why are you still keeping secrets? It has to be something _big,_ right?"

"Nii-san..." Hikari hedged, anxiety lingering in her voice. Takeru's anxiety, no doubt.

But Taichi's words stung. Deeply. Because it wasn't _Takeru's_ fault that he'd been forced to keep so much from his family, his friends. It wasn't _Takeru's_ fault that he'd spent his whole summer haunted by dead children. It wasn't _Takeru's_ fault that Piemon held such a powerful grudge that he'd climbed out of Hell, seeking revenge on the chosen of Hope and his digimon partner.

And yet... it was. It was his fault. Takeru chose to make that deal with Piemon. He'd willingly offered up his soul, if it meant that everyone would be safe. It felt so right at the time, like it was his only option left. He... he just wanted _peace._ He wanted everything to stop.

He didn't know until after he'd stepped off that rooftop that what he'd chosen to do was far from peaceful. It was just endless pain and suffering. It was Hikari who pulled him out of that awful, _awful_ realm of demented spirits who thought solely about satisfying their own hungry needs.

She wouldn't have had to save him if he hadn't been so foolish. She wouldn't have had to give up part of her soul if he had just _realized_ that Piemon's intentions were forever gruesome in nature. Even if Takeru did die then—correction, even if he'd _stayed dead_ —then who was to say Piemon would keep his end of their promise?

The very thought made Takeru shiver.

"No, Hikari, he's... he's right." Takeru swallowed shakily. "It isn't fair to keep this a secret anymore. I think he deserves to know."

Hikari looked back at him worriedly, asking with her eyes if he was certain. He really wasn't, but... but it _truly_ wasn't fair. These were his friends, weren't they? He didn't want to lie anymore. They deserved the truth. They'd waited patiently for so long for answers.

It wasn't like they could hide it for much longer, anyway. The luminous, identical markings were highly suspicious, and it wasn't exactly _normal_ for them to have something that was more or less a tattoo at such a young age.

In sync, Takeru and Hikari's D3s beeped and the unearthly glow faded seconds later. Their crest symbols faded as well.

Instantly, Patamon was blinking himself awake, peering up at Takeru sluggishly. "The warmth is... gone."

"I'm sorry, buddy," he whispered in response, with a smile that was shaky and sad.

"Where..." He pushed himself out of Takeru's arms, glancing around confusedly. "Where are we? Where's Angewomon?"

"I think she's Tailmon again," Hikari answered, looking down at her digivice. "Oh, no... what if she's hurt?"

"She's not," Patamon said. "Just... sleepy."

"She must have used a lot of energy to evolve," Takeru murmured softly, brows furrowing together. "And there were so many Monochromon..."

"We should see if the digimon are ok," Daisuke said. Takeru couldn't read his friend's expression from where he stood, but he sounded uncharacteristically stern. Worried.

Nobody had a chance to say anything before Daisuke took off running toward the entrance of the cave. Ken was right behind him.

"Wait, it's—it's dangerous—!" Jou was already chasing after him.

"Oh, dear," Sora said, following without hesitation.

"Are you kidding me? We just ran _all the way in here_ ," Miyako griped.

Underneath that annoyed exterior was very real confusion and concern for her own partner. Hikari started running, too, taking Takeru by the hand. Yamato wasn't far behind, and soon they were all bursting out of the mouth of the cave, scanning the area for their digimon partners.

All of the Monochromon were... asleep? Takeru raised his brows, frowning. But yes, there they were, not too far away from the cave, unconscious, but no longer posing as a threat to them.

He spotted Plotmon almost instantly on the outskirts of the crowd of slumbering digimon, meekly walking toward them. Patamon flew off toward her, with Takeru and Hikari trailing closely behind.

"Are you ok?" all three of them asked, earning a few blinks from the digimon in question.

"M'fine," she said after a pause, grinning tiredly at them. "Are _you_ three ok? Nobody is hurt, right?"

"Right," Hikari murmured with a fond smile. She took the child digimon in her arms, holding her close in a fashion that was similar to the way Takeru held Patamon minutes earlier.

"Good," Plotmon replied, now leaning against Hikari.

Their smiles were contagious. For a few moments, it seemed Takeru's anxiety was nonexistent, and he found himself grinning at how relieved and happy both his best friend and her digimon looked. Seeing _them_ genuinely happy made _him_ genuinely happy.

Everyone around them was checking on their digimon, and with good reason. But it seemed like everyone was in one piece, for the most part. Which was amazing, because the evidence lay in front of them now that the herd of Monochromon were asleep that it'd taken a lot out of the digimon to calm them.

"How did you get them all asleep?" he whispered, almost to himself. There had been so many, looking so wild that it seemed nothing would put them at ease.

"I used the Heaven's Charm on them," Plotmon answered. "I didn't really want to hurt them. I just wanted them to be at ease."

"Heaven's Charm can do that?" Takeru said, and she nodded. His eyes popped. How neat.

"It seems something scared enough to trigger a stampede?" Koushiro was walking up to them, a finger curled under chin thoughtfully. "What could provoke enough fear in them to do that?"

"I've never seen so many of them together," Tentomon said in a curious voice. "That was so strange, Koushiro-han."

"I'm sorry we ran away from you, Armadillomon," Takeru heard Iori say. "It all happened so fast."

"Don't worry about it." There was a smile in Armadillomon's voice. "I'd rather you be safe, tucked away somewhere."

"I second that," came Palmon's voice.

There was a loud hum of agreements between all of the digimon, which made Takeru smile again. But it wasn't long before a stomach growled, and then another, and another, and even Patamon was looking up at Takeru with pleading eyes.

"Don't tell me this ruined the picnic?"

That stole Takeru's smile from his face. Right... the picnic. That was why they were here. And it had been interrupted by...

"We left everything by the cave," Mimi cried out suddenly in horror.

" _And_... back to the cave," Miyako deadpanned, moving to follow her.

"Sorry bud," he whispered, eyes softening with sympathy. He hoped everything hadn't been ruined in their rush to escape the stampede. Patamon looked _really_ hungry. (Takeru himself felt disappointed when he realized there was probably a chance at _not_ getting to try Mimi's cupcakes.)

"Um... even if we get everything set up the way we wanted again," Ken began hesitantly, "wouldn't the food still be kind of messed up? It didn't get trampled, but the Monochromon made a lot of things fall over."

"Ken-chan, don't say that... you're breaking poor Patamon's heart," Wormmon said quietly.

Ken and Takeru's gazes met after he spoke. Ken's eyes melted a little with amusement and pity as he saw Patamon's wobbly expression. Takeru shrugged silently, trying not to laugh, but Patamon _was_ giving everyone the puppy-eyes. Takeru's gaze found Hikari and—

And she was looking off toward the cave, face wiped clean of emotion. Takeru frowned instantly and followed her gaze. Immediately, his stomach clenched.

Taichi was staring at them with an equally stoic expression. Yamato looked ready to kill someone. Agumon, Sora, Piyomon, and Gabumon were going back in forth between trying to diffuse an argument before it started and looking back at Hikari, Takeru, and their partners with confusion and worry.

It seemed like everyone had gone eminently quiet. Takeru couldn't hear what his brother and Taichi were talking about, but he had a very good guess.

"The cat's out of the bag, isn't it?" Plotmon whispered. "I didn't mean to spill your secret, Takeru. I just wanted you to be safe. I'm sorry."

Takeru looked back at her, eyes shining with a gratitude he couldn't express with words. "No, no, please, don't apologize! It's... I think it's better this way." _Or at least..._ _I hope so._

With that thought in his mind, Takeru pushed himself upward, extending his hand to help Hikari stand. She took it, saying woodenly, "They're going to fight."

Which made Takeru's words want to crawl back into his mouth like he'd never said them.

 _I don't want people to fight over me._

 _I don't want to cause trouble._

 _It wasn't supposed to turn out this way._

"Wait," he blurted without thinking, racing toward them. "Please... Nii-san, don't fight him. This is..." _This is all my fault._ "Please don't fight," came out again instead. "I'll explain it. I promise."

"You shouldn't explain something personal just because someone pressured you," Yamato said, tossing a glare in Taichi's direction.

"He didn't mean it like that, Nii-san," Takeru rambled on, now tugging on his brother's arm. "He's... he's worried. And it's not fair to make him worry about Hikari."

"Takeru..." she whispered from beside him.

"I'm—Yamato, are you really making me the bad guy here?" Taichi cut in, pinning Yamato with a glare of his own. "I just want to know what's so big that you have to hide it, ok? Didn't you spend enough time hiding things during the summer, Takeru?"

"I..." Takeru trailed off, torn with indecision. Once again, Taichi's comment badly stung. But what if Taichi thought something was seriously _wrong?_ He did not wish to make anyone angry or anxious. So many emotions swirled in him, setting his stomach aflutter with guilt and unease. It was a familiar feeling that foretold a panic attack, and he started counting in his head, trying his best to squash the sensation before it got out of hand.

This time, it was Sora who came to his rescue. She give him a sympathetic look, impossibly warm and soft. "Let's see what we can salvage from the picnic, alright? Everyone is hungry. When we're all set up, then let's talk. Ok, honey?"

He nodded numbly, having already lost his appetite. Said feebly, "Ok."

Taichi muttered something akin to an agreement under his breath. Yamato put some much needed distance between himself and Taichi, walking over to Takeru to offer some semblance of comfort. Whispered in an low voice, "Are you sure about this, little bro?"

Hikari rubbed his arm soothingly. Takeru met her eyes finally, seeing nothing but encouragement and understanding. Her gaze told him, "I said I'd be here."

He nodded again, drawing in a cleansing breath. "Yeah. I'm sure."


	11. Reveal (Part Two)

**a/n:** I have mixed feelings on this chapter. I like it, but it ended on a completely different note than I planned, and it's dialogue heavy, and it's all over the place. I hope it still ended up ok. I may go back and tweak it sometime later. Thank you for reading! I promise that this big mess will get resolved very soon. :) Poor Taichi.

 **Trigger warning:** mentions of attempted suicide, blood, and death.

* * *

 **setting:** post-ch 24

* * *

 _Where do I even start?_ Takeru thought, trying to ignore the fresh wave of anxiety that swept over him. Having this much attention focused solely on him was making him even more uneasy.

It had only taken about ten minutes to go through the food to see what was salvageable and what wasn't. Luckily, a lot of it was still sealed tightly in containers. Which meant Yamato's sponge cake was still good, Mimi's cupcakes could be eaten but they were very messy (and the frosting was melting fast), Koushiro's mother's onigiri rice balls were fine, half of Miyako's snacks were sort of crushed but the digimon still wanted them anyway, and Daisuke's broth was all over the ground, seeping into the dirt.

This made Daisuke reasonably upset. V-mon, Ken, and Wormmon were all there to comfort him, and Sora even said she'd love to try his ramen recipe another time, if he had the energy to make it again. Her words were echoed by many others, which help perk him up. V-mon even said he'd eat the noodles after they were cooked. Takeru smiled slowly, but it wasn't a genuine smile.

He was so nervous.

His stomach was cramping up. His palms were clammy. Every part of his body craved for a release, for something that would put him at ease. Why couldn't he find a nice place to bury himself? Would that make this suffocating panic to go away? Taichi was only concerned and curious, but the weight of his cryptic stare was more than Takeru could handle. Sora and Mimi—bless their hearts—had tried to make small talk before launching into such a heavy conversation, but to no avail. Taichi wanted answers.

Which was only fair. They'd waited two months. It hadn't seemed like so long—with school and his own recovery to think about, time flew by. Now, it was moving impossibly slowly, each second seeming like it lasted an aching eternity.

"I did something really, really stupid," he murmured eventually, almost choking on his own words. Jou had given him a water bottle, but he'd yet to open it. At least it kept his hands busy while he struggled to think of what to say next.

Hikari patted his arm, respectfully quiet. But the gesture encouraged him enough to continue.

"I didn't think... things would end up so bad, at first," he went on nervously, fiddling with his sleeves. Kept his gaze lowered. "I thought I could handle it. I thought they'd go away, maybe. But they didn't. And... I'm sorry that I lied to you because of this. That I worried you. That I scared everyone. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble, or tension. So... um. I'm sorry."

The pause that followed his apology was small. Takeru breathed out quietly through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn't like that everyone was so quiet. It only made his thundering heart seem louder, louder, louder. A tingling sensation was traveling up his arms and legs.

"You are _so_ not apologizing right now."

Takeru's head snapped up at that comment, but before he could even speak, he was tackled in a warm embrace. He froze, incapacitated with shock because the action had been so sudden. He recognized the voice as Miyako after a moment—a flash of lavender hair confirmed that it had been her who wrapped her arms around him—and he could only blink, sputtering. He hadn't expected such a straightforward response.

"You realize we're just happy you're ok, right?" she said, looking him in the eye. "You didn't cause trouble. Sure, we're confused as hell. And Iori and I miss walking to school with you in the morning! And we want to know what happened. But you _don't_ need to apologize."

"She's right," Iori said with a timid smile. "We are just glad you're safe. You didn't do anything wrong."

"This is the part where you hug her back, Takeru," Patamon whispered loudly. Takeru could hear a giggle somewhere.

Slowly, Takeru complied. He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes feeling hot and wet. Because he _did_ do something wrong. He wasn't lying when he said what he did was stupid. It was probably the stupidest stunt he'd ever pulled. And he'd made Hikari lie because of it, too. To her own brother, even.

"...we heard that you died," Miyako said in a much quieter, trembling voice as she pulled away.

Takeru stiffened suddenly upon hearing those words. He willed his heart to slow, willed himself to remain calm. Breathe. He just needed to _breathe_.

"I guess I did, didn't I?" he said softly, breathlessly. "It's because of Hikari that I came back. She saved my life."

There was another pause during which everyone was patiently silent. Takeru looked back at my hands, steeling himself for what was to come. Preparing himself for the conversation he'd been dreading for months. Patamon crawled into his lap and nuzzled into the crook of his arm, probably in attempt to comfort him. It was another gesture that prompted him proceed.

"Piemon was angry... at me. When we fought him the first time, HolyAngemon was the one who beat him. Everyone except Hikari and me had been turned into key chains. He didn't kill him, though. I guess... I guess when HolyAngemon opened Heaven's Gate... it transported him to Hell. It never occurred to me that he could escape from there. But he did. And... he had so many servants working for him. I saw them everywhere." A shudder crawled up the base of his spine. "Even before I knew it was Piemon behind it all... I heard his voice, in my dreams. But it was always so distorted. I could never place it until..."

 _"It hurts, doesn't it, little boy Hope?"_

He stopped, one hand coming up to rub his chest absentmindedly. In his mind's eye, he saw Piemon laughing at him. Saw the blood swishing around at his feet in sticky crimson pools. Saw Piemon's demonic followers staring perilously at him like a predator in wait of a meal.

"That night when Patamon was taken, Sakauchi—Piemon's top servant—said he'd kill Onii-san..." he murmured. "I knew he'd follow through with it. When Nii-san sprained his ankle, they told me next time they wouldn't let him wake up. That's why I couldn't tell anyone. I thought it'd put you at risk. So I went with him, to Piemon's lair. I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Once again, there was silence. It was strangely uncomfortable; Takeru wasn't sure if he preferred their silence or their questions.

Then Sora made a pitying sound. "Takeru..."

He swallowed thickly, deciding it was best to keep going.

"When I woke up, I was in a dark room. Sakauchi was there." A faint tremble claimed Takeru's hands. He pulled his sleeves over his fingers. The more he thought about Piemon, the more his chest burned: an nauseating echo of the pain caused by beings that weren't even supposed to exist. "There were so many other spirits. I'd never seen so many in one place. They chased Patamon and me until we were separated, and... that was when Piemon showed up. He um, he stole my crest. And... he taunted me."

 _He tortured me._ The words would not come out.

"I'm sorry, honey." Sora sounded torn between getting up and comforting him and staying still.

Not that his best friend or brother gave anyone much room. Yamato was as stiff as wood from his spot next to Takeru, his arm coiled around his shoulders protectively, tightly, as if needing reassurance that he was really there. Hikari leaned into him slowly. She was warm. Miyako had long since moved back to her original spot next to Iori, respectfully giving them space.

He wasn't going to admit it out loud, but he was incredibly grateful for their presence. Yamato, Hikari, Plotmon, and Patamon were the only thing that kept him from spiraling into an episode of cold panic. Even Gabumon was near, leaning against Yamato's other side, ready to offer support if need be.

"We didn't mean to make you live through it again," Sora said finally, her voice laced with a tenderness not unlike a mother would use when speaking to their child.

"N-no, it's... it's ok," he said quietly, wringing his fingers. "You deserve to know. There's... um. There's more." He swallowed again. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. "Piemon offered me a deal."

Daisuke's breath hitched. "You didn't..."

"It was so stupid," he persisted with a chuckle that was hollow. "I... I thought if I gave him what he wanted, he would leave everyone else alone."

"What did he want?" Iori seemed almost afraid to ask.

Takeru paused, almost ashamed to tell them. But he had to. He needed to. For himself, for Hikari, for Taichi, for the rest of his friends that sat in this circle, watching and waiting for him to shed the last of his secrets.

"...I gave him my soul," he whispered.

A collective gasp sounded throughout the group. He couldn't look up to read their faces, already knowing by that sound that it wasn't going to be something he wanted to see.

"But you're still here," Daisuke said, sounding confused. "What happened after that?"

Takeru wanted to curl into himself and disappear. It was the first talking about the whole experience in front of somebody who wasn't Hikari. It was the first time saying those words five words out loud. Yamato's thumb brushed against his shoulder. Takeru didn't even glance up to read his expression, but he could feel how tense his brother was.

Because he was there. He'd watched Takeru leap to his death. He knew that Takeru didn't intend to be here right now, at this picnic, surrounded by their friends. Him, Jou, Mimi, Ken, Hikari, and their partners... they were all awfully quiet. Takeru couldn't bring himself to look at them, either. Shame was crawling through him, slow and foreboding. It was... it was kind of humiliating, sitting here, knowing that _they_ knew. He could say that Piemon had killed him, but that was only partially true. Piemon had told them what really happened.

 _I willingly gave up my life to him._

 _I tried to kill myself._

 _I tried to_ kill myself.

How was he supposed to tell the rest of his comrades that?

"That's when it kind of gets fuzzy," he chose to say. "I don't really remember much. Everything was... just black, for a while. I was in this... I think I was in Hell. There were so many demons. They didn't even look like recognizable human beings anymore. And they—"

His hands squeezed the water bottle, unable to continue. It was too painful. Physically and emotionally. His whole being burned badly enough to evoke a wince.

"When his body was empty," Hikari said quietly for him, looking down at Plotmon and Patamon, "Sakauchi possessed him. I thought if we got close enough to talk to him, that Takeru was still in there, that would still be able to hear me." She paused. "I was right."

"You were... possessed?"

It was the first time Taichi had spoken since he started, and it startled Takeru enough to cause him to look up. His expression bled shock, but there was something else in his eyes that he couldn't read. Just like last weekend.

"What then?" Taichi prompted quietly when Takeru didn't speak.

"I'm really not sure how it happened," Takeru said eventually. "I don't know how she did it. But, um... Piemon said that there was no way I could be saved. Those demons had already eaten a piece of my soul. But Hikari... she tore a piece of her own soul out, so I could have something to hold onto when I was sinking in Hell. It was so dark, and she was so bright. I could see her hand. So I grabbed it and... and then I woke up."

The last five words were whispered, and at this point, he was shaking visibly. His heart wanted to climb up his throat. All around him were wide eyes and pale faces etched with disbelief, the food from the picnic long forgotten. It seemed whatever they were expecting, it hadn't been _that._

"You... you mean..." Daisuke's mouth was all but hanging open. It was like he was trying to put the puzzle together but needed help finding a few more pieces. "What does that _mean?_ "

"We um..." Takeru stopped, uncertain. He wasn't sure why this felt weird, saying it out loud. Sharing a soul with Hikari wasn't all that awkward. But for some reason, he was having a hard time telling them. Maybe it was because of how big the audience was. And that her brother sat right across from him, having been waiting for this moment for a long time. He was purposely avoiding Taichi's gaze once again.

"Our souls merged when I pulled him out," Hikari finished for him softly, also twitching self-consciously under all the attention.

"And... it's irrevocable?" Koushiro murmured in awe.

Hikari and Takeru nodded together, slowly. Takeru said, "Piemon said we are 'connected even in death.'"

"So if something happens to one of you, then... we lose both of you?" Sora asked in a low, tearful whisper.

It felt as though someone had taken Takeru's heart into their hands and squeezed just to see how uncomfortable it would make him. This was a brutal reminder that he'd recklessly risked not only his life, but Hikari's as well, when he'd ran after Patamon during the stampede. He was immensely glad that Patamon was ok and Tailmon had stepped in; he didn't want to think about what would have happened if she hadn't acted so quickly.

"That's true," Hikari confirmed, offering a subtle squeeze when Takeru's body became rigid. "Our crests combined as well..."

"Which would explain why Tailmon digivolved when Takeru's life was in danger," Koushiro went on, saucer-eyed. A finger was now curled under his chin contemplatively. "The crests of Hope and Light have fused, along with your very essence... does this mean Hikari can trigger Patamon's digivolution? _Fascinating_."

Takeru knew that Koushiro was the type of person who was forever intrigued by strange phenomena. He had a natural flame of curiosity that never stopped burning. The enthrallment stitched into his gaze, however, made Takeru feel as though he was being studied underneath a microscope. He squirmed uncomfortably when Koushiro opened his mouth again, probably to ask more questions.

This did not go unnoticed by Yamato.

"Whether or not it's 'fascinating' is not the point, Koushiro," he said icily. "Hikari and Takeru are not test subjects."

"Of course not," Koushiro said quickly, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "I simply meant that such a phenomenon has never occurred before—"

Yamato's eyes narrowed, which prompted Koushiro to stop talking. Takeru's first instinct was to tell his brother to leave Koushiro be, that he didn't mean any real harm by his words, but one of the digimon spoke first: Agumon.

"Did it hurt?"

Takeru and Hikari blinked. Then, in unison: "Did what hurt?"

"When your souls combined," Agumon persisted curiously. "You said Hikari tore a piece of hers out. And that yours had already been partially eaten. That must have hurt a lot."

Takeru's expression darkened slightly, almost like a storm cloud, suddenly reminded of how much his whole body ached. The scars burned anew, hot tingling sensations whispering through gnarled flesh. No one could see them—not in these clothes, his long-sleeved tee and jeans. The only scar visible was the one parallel to his jawline.

The seemingly innocuous question left him vulnerable still, and with that unsettling feeling was the realization that Hikari was probably in a similar state as him: stunned into silence, trying to find a way to answer the question.

Because the physical scars hadn't come from Hell. Being sliced apart by Piemon's servants wasn't pleasant, but the pain of having a demon literally _consuming_ your soul... that had been _excruciating_. The very memory made him wince.

Hikari must have felt the same pain when she pulled herself apart to save him.

Miyako was laughing suddenly, startling both of them out of their stupor and causing them to look at her in alarm. She said, "You know... it makes so much sense now."

Takeru's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, Agumon's question fading into the back of his mind. "What do you mean?"

"You two are _always_ together," she explained. "I mean, you're best friends, sure. But you've been closer than usual, ever since you defeated Piemon. You act kind of alike. And—and just now, you talked at the same time. You even got sick at the same time!"

This time, Hikari and Takeru shared a look with each other. Was... was it that obvious?

Eventually, Daisuke cracked a small grin and started snickering. Miyako's remark seemed to lighten the mood enough to coax him to reach for a (mostly destroyed) cupcake. It took Takeru a moment to realize that they were almost gone. At least the conversation hadn't ruined _everybody's_ appetite, the back of his mind told him.

"She's right. You're always together," he said around a fit of stifled laughter.

"I can't believe we didn't see it before," Armadillomon said, looking at the other digimon as if for their opinion.

Takeru relaxed ever-so-slightly, glancing back at Hikari with a tiny tinge of amusement. He turned to give Miyako a grateful look for breaking the ice and—

An abrupt noise startled everyone back into focus. Taichi had slammed his fist into the ground, looking at the two of them with a sharp eyes. His jaw was clenched. "Stop acting like there's nothing weird about it!"

Takeru flinched. The moment of peace was gone as quickly as it had come. Once again, all the banter was fading away and the silence that took its place left him with the nerve-wracking realization that Taichi was not happy. In fact, Taichi looked _pissed._

"Nii-san..." Hikari hedged, seemingly just as confused and uncertain as Takeru felt. But it wasn't long before Yamato stepped in again, matching Taichi's rage with a glare of his own.

"Excuse me?" Yamato said in a voice that seethed hostility. "You realize that if she hadn't saved him, my brother would be _dead,_ don't you?"

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. The fight that had started up not long ago was surfacing again. Takeru's emotions were making him more and more nauseous, with how fast they were changing. He hated how quickly everything was coming back—just when he got his anxiety back down to manageable levels, it was skyrocketing again, threatening to consume him. His gaze darted back and forth between his older brother and Taichi, trying desperately to think of something to say that would put them both at ease. Anything to prevent the escalating argument before it got out of hand.

"That's not what I meant," Taichi snapped back, narrowing his eyes. There was a fire in his eyes that Takeru hadn't seen in a long time. "I mean, how can you sit here and joke about it? As if nothing's changed? You risked your life—you risked Hikari's life, earlier!"

"Nii-san!" This time, Hikari was scolding him. But there was a tightness in her voice that wasn't there before, like every part of her—muscles, voice, thoughts—had been pulled taut.

"I didn't—"

But Takeru couldn't finish. Couldn't defend himself. Because what could he say? Taichi was right. Taichi was undoubtedly _right._

"Hika, why didn't you tell me?" Taichi went on, as Takeru's sank deeper and deeper into a cold pool of guilt. "I get why you did it. And I get why you didn't want to talk about Piemon, Takeru. I understand that it's a lot. But... this is... why couldn't I know? You share a _soul._ Why did you leave me in the dark? You're my sister, Hikari."

That hit him hard, nearly physical in its impact. Takeru could almost _feel_ the color draining from his face. It was like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stepped on. By then, Hikari was just gaping, so shocked it seemed she couldn't find the right words.

"I'm sorry, Taichi," Takeru murmured, feeling meek and overwhelmed. "Th-this is—"

"No! No, no, no, no, _no._ " Suddenly Yamato was twisting him, cupping both of his cheeks. "Look into my eyes. You don't have _anything_ to be sorry for, ok? Don't you ever, _ever_ be sorry. Hikari, hey, it's ok. Damn it! Taichi!"

And he was whirling around, standing so fast that Takeru jumped back in alarm. It wasn't long before Yamato had Taichi by the collar, glaring icy daggers at him. Taichi had a hand around his wrist, trying to pull him off.

 _This is all my fault._ It wasn't the first time those words crossed his mind.

"Get off me!"

"You don't have the right to yell at him!" Yamato was actually shaking with rage. "They're telling you _now,_ aren't they? Isn't that good enough?!"

 _Stop. Stop, stop,_ stop!

"That's easy for you to say," Taichi said vehemently. "You were _there,_ Yamato. How would you feel if you weren't? They came home bloody and passed out! How do you think I felt for two months, waiting for an explanation?!"

"Of course I get that!" Yamato's grip did not slacken. His glare became more fierce. "But don't you _dare_ yell at him—at either of them! They did the best they could!"

"Onii-san... Stop. Please." He'd been shouting it in his mind, but when Takeru spoke out loud, it came out feeble and laced with shame.

It didn't matter. Neither of them heard him. Taichi pushed Yamato away violently. "I'm not—Yamato, you're _missing my point._ "

"You're missing _mine_ ," Yamato countered murderously. "While we were crossing the lake, he was being tortured! Piemon cut him up like a piece of fucking paper and _enjoyed_ it! The only reason he didn't bleed to death was because of Hikari's crest. The only reason we were able to come home at all was because of those two. They _both_ defeated Piemon! And you—you're guilt-tripping them?!"

He reared back his fist and struck Taichi in the jaw with enough force to knock him to the ground completely.

Takeru's breath hitched. He really, really wanted to disappear. Humiliation clamped down hard, sinking its teeth into him and causing the cycle of panic to begin anew.

"Hey," Jou said abruptly, putting a hand on Yamato's shoulder. Gabumon was moving to grab his human partner's leg, and even Koushiro was standing to help hold him back. "Come on, stop it, you two. Fighting isn't going to change the past—"

Sora and Mimi were by Taichi's side, with Mimi's hands gripping his shoulders tightly and Sora inspecting his jaw. Agumon, Piyomon, and Palmon were making sure he didn't stand up to retaliate.

"Jou's right. Please don't argue," Sora said, trying to be as gentle as possible. "It was..."

The rest of her words went unheard to Takeru. His scars burned white-hot, like Piemon was hurting him all over again. There was so much blood. So much pain. Piemon was _laughing_ , loud and obnoxious and sadistic, like it was a game. And Takeru was—it _hurt,_ it hurt—he was going to be sick—and he couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, because it hurt and everyone was angry and it was all his fault—

"I—I should go," he said in a thick voice, pushing himself up on unsteady legs. He didn't know _where_ he would go, exactly, but he needed to get away from them.

"Takeru, hey. Wait!" Hikari was instantly following him, fingers shaking as she touched his sleeve.

"N-no! No. No." Tears were gathering in his eyes. He pulled at his shirt, wishing he could pull it off just so the suffocation would stop, so the burning would stop, but then they'd _see,_ but damn it, Yamato had already told them what Piemon did to him, so it didn't matter. "I'll go. I'm leaving. I'm s-sorry, Taichi. Please... d-don't fight. I didn't... I can't..." He was choking on his own breath as he stumbled away. "I'm so sorry."

His legs pulled him away from the mess, away from the prying eyes, away from the confusion, and the disappointment, and the anger. And he was running away from his problems, he knew. But he couldn't handle it anymore. Behind him, he heard Taichi's voice calling out to Hikari, and Yamato was calling for him.

"No. Nii-san, _d_ _on't_ touch me," Hikari hissed in a way that was so different from her usual voice, shaky and hysterical and hoarse, and maybe it was because the uncontrollable tornado of emotions—Takeru's emotions—was raging inside both of them, but he couldn't stop to face her. His fight-or-flight instinct had been ignored for long enough. He needed _out._

In a flash of light, they were back on Earth, him and Patamon, and he didn't even care where. Just kept moving, swaying dizzily. Out the door, down the steps, down the sidewalk, taking a sharp turn into an alley he didn't really recognize.

"Takeru! Takeru, slow down," Patamon called out, just as Takeru's legs gave out, causing him to sink to the ground.

This day. This day was so _insane._ Why couldn't everything just go right for once? Was that too much to ask? They'd just wanted a friendly get together. It was supposed to be a day where everyone could relax. But then there was the stampede and... and—

 _I can't breathe_ , echoed endlessly in his brain. He couldn't say the words, couldn't find his voice, but it was obvious as leaned against the wall of an unknown building. His chest was heaving as he pulled at his shirt again with tingling hands. He was going to throw up.

Footsteps drew near. It was only Hikari, he realized almost instantly without having to look and see. She and her partner had not been far behind him, so he shouldn't have been surprised when she turned into the alley and found him.

He couldn't find the strength to look at her. He didn't need to. She was panting as she knelt down next to him, and he could see the way her fingers trembled as she rested a hand on his.

Patamon and Tailmon—who must have digivolved upon going through the gate—stayed obediently by their sides. Neither spoke, at first. And then Takeru was counting quietly, trying to regulate his breathing and his heartbeat. Failing at first, trying not to choke on tears. But Hikari joined him after a while, squeezing his hand in reassurance, and they just sat there for a while, counting and breathing, until they both could stop shaking.

In the wake of the panic was shame, stronger than before, sweeping through his body in waves. Takeru rested his chin on his knees, thankful to finally have the nausea under control but still in a great amount of discomfort. He was exhausted and his whole body ached.

"That was such a mess," he said emptily when he was able to use his voice, sniffling. A humiliating, frightening, dramatic mess.

Hikari hummed in agreement but kept her gaze lowered. "I'm sorry for everything that happened, Takeru."

"It wasn't your fault," he murmured, which was also true. "I'm sorry that you... for what you felt. It just—it happened so fast. I couldn't—"

"I know." She exhaled tremulously, but tried to smile anyway. "It's ok now."

"I thought... that I'd be able to handle it. Today."

"You did a good job," Tailmon assured him, and Patamon nodded affirmatively.

Takeru inwardly scoffed. Causing a fight, having a panic attack in front of _all of his friends_ , and then running off didn't really count as a good job. But it was a nice way of attempting to cheer him up, to ease his embarrassment from today's events. So he mirrored Hikari's strained smile, grateful that they were trying. "Thanks."

"...I'm sorry," Hikari repeated suddenly.

Takeru looked at her, brows knitted together with confusion. "What for?"

"It's so scary. And you dealt with them for so long, all by yourself." And then she laughed—a strange hollow laugh that didn't sound like it had come from her at all. "And you apologized to _me_ for what _I_ felt. I'm sure it was worse for you."

Takeru fell quiet, considering, but only for a few moments. Then he whispered, "They're not usually this bad, not since we beat Piemon. I guess I just got... overwhelmed."

"Does your chest hurt?"

He paused again. "It'll fade eventually."

"Nii-san didn't mean to make you feel bad," she went on. "I knew that... that they were probably going to fight. That he would snap. But I know he didn't mean to make you feel guilty. You _shouldn't_ feel guilty, Takeru."

"I... I know." He drew in a slow breath. "Taichi has every right to be mad, though. I just... I didn't know how to tell him, or anyone."

"He's not mad at you," Hikari mumbled. The words that went unspoken, Takeru heard loud and clear.

 _He's mad at_ me _._

"No," Takeru said before he could stop himself. "He's not mad at you, either, Hikari. It's my fault for putting everyone in this situation. For making you keep secrets."

 _"Didn't you spend enough time hiding things in the summer, Takeru?"_

"You weren't 'making' me," Hikari said, looking him in the eyes. The smile on her face was softer now. "I told you, I would wait until you were ready. I know how hard this was on you, Takeru."

He hadn't been ready. He hadn't been prepared at all, even though it had been so long. There wasn't much time to think of how he would explain it. But... at least the truth was out, now, even if it had been forced. He didn't have much left to hide. They just had to wait for everyone to settle down. Hopefully, it wasn't too long. He didn't know if he could handle that kind of tension again.

"Let's settle for this," Tailmon began abruptly, looking at both of them determinedly. "We dropped a bomb on almost everyone. Each person took it differently. Taichi may be frustrated or hurt a little, but that doesn't mean he's angry. He didn't have time to process his feelings. They probably just came out all wrong. Nobody is at fault."

"Right," Patamon chirped. "Human emotions are just weird sometimes. No more blame games, ok? No more apologizing. What's done is done. Takeru? Hikari?"

Takeru's smile expanded a fraction, and Hikari nodded, trying to stifle a giggle. It was nice to hear her laugh, to see their digimon partners smile, after such a chaotic day. It sent little threads of hope through him. There was a mess to be cleaned up with the rest of their team, but they were able to bounce back.

Takeru wanted to bounce back, too. And it was easy, with just them. It hadn't been so easy when he was surrounded by the other Chosen.

" _My_ Onii-san was angry," he said eventually, recalling the murderous expression on his older brother's face.

"Yamato is always angry," Tailmon commented dryly, tail flicking absently.

"He and Taichi clash a lot," Patamon added. "Sometimes, that doesn't make sense. You're both best friends, but I don't see either of you punching the other in the face."

Takeru's eyes popped. He couldn't even _think_ about laying a hand on Hikari. The idea of harming her made him queasy.

"But then," Patamon continued airily, oblivious to their reactions. "You and Ken seem a little close, and you punched him in the face."

"You _what?_ " Hikari rounded on him, staring at him with dinner-plate eyes. "When did you do that?"

A sheepish chuckle escaped him and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Before he could explain, however, his phone buzzed. He'd long ago forgotten that it was in his pocket. He was surprised it hadn't fell in out in all of the commotion.

It was from Yamato, asking if where he was and if he was ok. Takeru's smile faltered slightly and his heart squeezed when he saw a follow-up message, this time an apology for losing his temper.

"I got a message, too," Hikari said quietly as she stared at her phone. "They're wondering where we are."

Takeru expelled a soft breath. Since they'd been texted over the phone and not d-terminal, it was safe to assume that they'd come home from the digital world. He didn't exactly want to tell his brother or the rest of his friends that he and Hikari were sitting in a discrete alley. It wasn't the ideal place for resting, but his body hadn't given him much of a choice. It came to his attention that the longer they sat here in the shade, the colder it was getting. It was mid-October, after all. He'd been so preoccupied with the mess in his brain to take note of the weather. They were lucky it was only two-thirty in the afternoon.

Part of him felt guilty for leaving them behind like that. But it was just too much, too fast. He was thankful Hikari had come with him.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked, looking at him knowingly.

"I... I don't know," he admitted truthfully. His apartment was only a little over twenty minutes from here by foot, but his body and mind were tired. He wasn't even standing but his legs still felt unsteady. It wasn't like they could stay here, though. Maybe... it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the walk would be good for him, give him time to think. "...I don't want to talk to them. Not right now."

"Do you want to go home?" Patamon asked. "I can take you!"

That made Takeru laugh. Riding back to his apartment in the arms of an angel or on a Pegasus was sure to catch _someone's_ attention. "I don't think that's a good idea, Pata. But..." He paused contemplatively. "Maybe going home is smart."

"Do you want me to stay for a little while?" Hikari's expression had gone soft again.

Takeru really didn't want to bother her more. He'd already caused enough trouble. But if she went to her house, and Taichi came home, then it would be like throwing her under the bus. He couldn't do that to her.

"Sure," he said, and added hastily, "If you want to, that is."

Her eyes crinkled with a smile. "I don't mind." Then, after a moment: "We need to let them know that, though."

Right. Takeru looked down at the device in his hand, hesitant for a few moments before typing out a reply to his brother, telling them they were just going to his house. It hurt to say that he wanted to be alone, because the last thing he wanted to do was push Yamato away. But...

 _...I'll call you later ok?_ he decided to finish with, and sent it. Maybe in a few hours, talking to others wouldn't seem like such an overwhelming task. And it wasn't fair, really, to let Yamato in, but not Taichi. Taichi was already hurt enough. He couldn't shut either of them out, though. Not anymore. Maybe it was best to give everyone time to cool off.

His phone buzzed, telling him Yamato had replied. _I'm sorry. Lemme know if you need me. For anything. I'll be there._

 _Please don't be sorry. Thanks Nii-san._ And then, _Don't be mad at Taichi. He didn't do anything wrong._

"Are you ready?" Hikari asked after time, tucking her own phone into her pocket.

Takeru sighed again. This day had been one emotional roller coaster. "I think so."

He pushed himself up to his full height, teetering at first. And then he extended a hand to help Hikari to her feet. She took it, and slowly, they made their way to his apartment.


	12. Apology

**a/n:** Happy Odaiba Day! ...what's that? I'm ten days late? Oh, no. What a surprise. XD Anyway, this turned out to be so much sappier than I thought it would be. But... I like it still. :) Thank you all for reading. Reviews are much appreciated. 💛

* * *

 **setting:** post-ch 24/post-Reveal

* * *

Regret chewed mercilessly at Taichi's stomach, creating a burning pit that left him uneasy.

Four hours. It had been four hours since Takeru and Hikari stumbled away from the group in a panicked hurry. As soon as they were gone, all of Taichi's anger had melted away and he was left with one sickening thought:

Now Takeru blamed himself.

"Are you happy now?" Yamato had snapped, looking so pissed off that Taichi was sure he was going to throw another punch. Instead, he was on his feet, turning as though ready to chase after the two kids. "Look what you did! Takeru, he— _damn it_ , Taichi, do you realize what you've done?"

That confirmed it. Taichi's stomach twisted and churned, almost to the point of making him nauseous.

"Yamato," Sora began gently, tugging on his shirt with delicate fingers.

"I've got to go after him," he said, almost ignoring her entirely. "I've got to—"

"Hikari is with him," she said, with more conviction. "I think it's best that we leave them alone."

"I... I agree with Sora," Jou said hesitantly, staring off in the direction Hikari and Takeru had went with open concern. "He left because he felt overwhelmed. I think the last thing they need at the moment is more company."

Yamato seethed quietly for several moments, fists clenched, whole body tense. Then he deflated, losing all of his steam, but kept his gaze locked on Taichi. His voice wavered when he spoke again.

"I can't believe you. He gave up his life for our safety, and _this_ is how you repay him," he hissed. "I almost became an only child because he cares _so much_ about all of us that he willingly sold his soul."

Everyone was quiet, deathly so, and bile rose in Taichi's throat. Never in his life had he felt so guilty. Especially when he caught the mixed looks of everyone else: worried, accusatory, remorseful, ashamed, lost.

Taichi looked away, working his jaw. "I... I didn't mean it like that, Yamato."

"It sure as hell sounded like it."

"I wasn't _trying_ to imply—" He stopped. There wasn't anything he could say to defend his actions. "I messed up, ok? I'm sorry."

"Save it for Takeru," Yamato said, before turning to storm off. Gabumon wasn't far behind him, probably following to make sure he didn't do anything rash. Tossed over his shoulder, "He's the one you need to apologize to. Him and Hikari both."

Then they cleaned up. It had only taken about five minutes with the help of the remaining Chosen and digimon. It was a long five minutes—the tension had been unbearable. Afterward, they'd gone to their respective homes.

Now, Taichi stood in front of Takeru's apartment door and he had no clue what awaited him on the other side. He knew Hikari was here—she'd told him so over text. The only one accompanying him was Agumon, and that alone had been a risk because there were only so many times he could throw a sweater over his partner and call him a human child. Agumon's presence was comforting all the same.

Maybe Yamato would be here later. Probably soon. Hikari told him that they were the only ones inside, that Takeru's mother had gone to work sometime around when the picnic had started and wasn't scheduled to be home until later that evening. Best friend or not, he wasn't exactly on Yamato's good side.

But Yamato was right. Taichi owed both his sister and Takeru an apology.

"Taichi?" Agumon whispered, looking up at him with big green eyes. "I think you should knock."

"Right," he muttered quietly, raising a curled fist to do just that.

There was a few moments of silence. Then scuffling could be heard on the other side of the door, and a few clicks signaled that the lock had been disengaged. Taichi's gaze was instantly met with a familiar pair of blue.

"Taichi," Takeru murmured, widening the door. "Come in."

Taichi didn't like how fast Takeru looked away. Not one bit. But he obeyed, stepping inside and watching as Takeru let Agumon in as well. Hikari was sitting on the sofa, eyes webbed and tired. Both of them looked pale, but seemingly better than they had hours prior. Tailmon was regarding Taichi indifferently, but Patamon's expression remained soft and worried.

Taichi slipped off his shoes and cleared his throat as the door behind him clicked shut. He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not gonna beat around the bush, here. I didn't come here to press for more information. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Takeru's eyes darted back up to him. "Taichi, th-that's not—"

"Necessary? I'm pretty sure it is, Takeru," he persisted, swallowing with difficulty. "I said some things I shouldn't have. I... I pushed you more than I should have. And I'm sorry for that."

Takeru and Hikari shared an indecipherable look. It was a look that Taichi had seen quiet often, ever since that fateful day that the two had returned from the digital world. He knew better than to push it now. Even if it made his heart sink in his chest.

"We know you didn't mean it, Nii-san," Hikari said after a time with a ghost of a smile. "Please don't beat yourself up."

A laugh spilled from Taichi's lips, sudden and unwarranted, which made Takeru and Hikari glance at him in surprise. Even their digimon partners looked stunned at his response. That was why Taichi was here, wasn't it? Because he'd put his foot in his mouth, and now Takeru was beating _himself_ up?

"What?" Takeru said, abruptly seeming self-conscious. His hand rose to touch his face, and it was then that Taichi saw the thin scar tracing his jawline. Saw the anxiety that crossed his features. Saw the shadows haunting his eyes.

This kid had clearly been through enough. He'd sacrificed so much, for all of his friends. Taichi had been so blinded by the desire to know what had happened all those months ago that he hadn't really _seen_ how much Takeru was still suffering.

 _"You realize that if she hadn't saved him, my brother would be_ dead, _right?"_

"C'mere," he said, beckoning for both of them to move.

They obeyed, albeit slowly. One of his arms snaked over Hikari's shoulders, pulling her in; and the other reached for Takeru. Then Hikari was laughing as well, and Takeru went stiff for a few moments, obviously not expecting the hug, before he finally melted. Taichi's chin rested on Hikari's head.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, because he desperately needed both of them to hear it, to know that he meant it. "I'm really sorry."

"Taichi..." Agumon's voice sounded somewhere behind him, and moments later, a claw was resting on the back of his leg.

"It's ok," Takeru murmured.

"It's really not," he said, laughing again, this time sounding more wooden and empty than before. He squeezed both of them briefly before releasing them. "I was such an ass. I'm sorry I made you feel so overwhelmed."

"You were worried about Hikari."

"I was. I am," Taichi clarified quickly, looking back at her as he spoke. "She's my sister."

Takeru winced suddenly. "Y-yeah. I know. I'm sor—"

"Nuh-uh," Taichi interrupted, raising a hand. "Let me finish, ok?"

Takeru quieted then, glancing back up at Taichi with confused, fearful eyes, as if he was afraid of whatever was coming. Taichi's older-brother instinct immediately told him that he needed to do whatever it took to wipe that look off Takeru's face.

"Look," he started, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad. I... I never was! It's just. I knew something was up for a while, and I kept waiting and waiting for you to tell me what it was, but you didn't. I understand why. This... this is something that takes a lot of time to recover from. But... still. We're all a team! We have been for so many years. You know you can rely on your team for things, right?"

"I know," Takeru mumbled feebly, averting his gaze.

There was a small pause. Hikari reached out to squeeze Takeru's shoulder reassuringly, guiding him back to the sofa slowly. Taichi said, "Like I said before, I'm not mad. I'm not trying to lecture you, either. I guess... I guess I just don't like secrets, you know? You don't have to do everything by yourself. Either of you. But..." He stopped, swallowing again. "In the end, Miyako was right. I'm just... I'm really glad that you're ok. I'm glad Hikari did what she did to save you."

"For what it's worth," Agumon added, "I'm glad, too. We'd miss you so much if you weren't here."

Takeru did not look up from his fingers. Once again, Hikari offered her touch as a sign of comfort before she looked up at Taichi and pointed silently toward the bathroom, as if sensing that the two of them needed privacy. Tailmon pressed herself against Takeru's leg before following after her partner.

"Thank you," Taichi praised after another few heartbeats of silence.

That finally got Takeru's attention. "For what?"

"For trying to protect us," he went on, before moving to sit down next to the blond boy. "That took a lot of guts. It must have been so scary facing Piemon all by yourself. I'm sure everyone appreciates what you did for us, even if they haven't said it yet."

Takeru was speechless, for a moment: mouth hanging open, eyes widening ever-so-slightly. Then Patamon pushed himself into the air and landed on his head, staring down at Takeru with round blue eyes. "You're always putting everyone before yourself, aren't you, Takeru?"

"Hikari does it, too." Taichi reclined back on the couch, folding his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling absently. "She's always been like that. Thinking of others, without thinking of herself. You both are so alike, even before... all of this."

"...she's been really good to me," Takeru whispered in a somewhat distant voice. "I don't know what I'd do without her."

"I don't know what I'd do, either," Taichi admitted truthfully. "But you're like a little brother to me, you know? I don't know what I'd do without either of you."

The rustle of fabric. Takeru had shifted on the sofa to face him, and when Taichi looked at him, he saw the tears glistening in Takeru's eyes. "Y-you mean that?"

"'Course I do!"

"You're a good kid," Agumon said, smiling toothily. "The best Takeru that I know!"

Takeru sniffled and offered wobbly laugh, eyes red and webbed. "I... Thank you." He inhaled slowly, shakily, before wiping at his eyes. "I'm sorry, Taichi. I didn't... I'm tired of secrets, too. I didn't mean to make you feel left out. I-it's... it was just hard. When I jumped—"

Takeru stopped.

Taichi froze. A cold feeling settled deep in his stomach, and he looked at Takeru with eyes that were gradually getting larger and larger. "What do you mean... you 'jumped'?"

The expression on Takeru's face told him he was instantly wanting to backpedal. But the words had already left his mouth, and it didn't take long for Taichi to put the pieces together.

"Takeru, tell me you didn't," he said, the coldness in his insides quickly solidifying into a ball of ice. How could his stomach feel like it was burning and freezing simultaneously?

Takeru blinked rapidly, but it didn't stop the tears. "H-he said that... I had to pull it out myself."

"Oh, kid," Taichi said quietly, his arm coming to wrap around Takeru's shoulders.

There wasn't much else he could say. Not about this. It was strange, seeing the hopeful boy he'd known for so many years look so distraught. It only made Taichi feel even more guilty. And with that guilt came a memory from weeks ago, when he'd been standing silently outside Hikari's bedroom door, listening to a conversation that still confused and worried him.

 _"It really was an accident."_

 _"I still have nightmares."_

 _"I still think about what the ghosts did."_

Takeru fiddled with his sleeves, and then he was wiping at his eyes again, this time more furiously than before. "Sorry."

"For what?" Taichi blinked, surfacing from his thoughts. "Agumon's right, Takeru. You're a good person. You're really brave, and tough."

"You forgot reckless," Patamon said, but not without affection.

"Hmm. Reckless," came Tailmon's voice. She was looking directly at Taichi with a deadpan expression. "Doesn't that sound like someone else we know, Hikari?"

Hikari peered out from the bathroom door, a timid smile on her lips. Her eyes were watery, just like Takeru's. She said, "You're right, Tailmon. Sounds like somebody we know."

Taichi blinked again, concerned, but soon that faded and he looked at his sister with a pout. He leaned forward, pulling away from Takeru to cross his arms. "What're you trying to say?"

Agumon, looking confused, said, "I think she's trying to say that you're reckless, Taichi."

That made Hikari and Takeru both laugh. Hikari made her way back into the room, and Patamon said, "Hikari, you've got no room to talk."

"Patamon," Takeru cried, looking up at his partner with wide eyes.

"What?" He pushed himself off Takeru's head. "She's reckless, too!"

Tailmon eyed Hikari slowly. "He's not wrong."

Hikari pretended to look offended for a little moment, but the expression soon melted away into a smile, this time with more warmth and confidence. "Guess I take after Nii-san."

"I wonder where Takeru gets it from, then," Agumon commented, tapping his chin with one of his claws thoughtfully.

Taichi and Hikari shared a look before bursting into laughter, which startled Agumon. Taichi said, "I'll give you a hint. He's tall, quick-tempered, and looks like Takeru."

Takeru frowned, but his eyes were shining with mirth. "Nii-san's not that bad." And then, after a moment: "I'm sorry he punched you, Taichi."

That made Taichi wince. His hand came up to touch his jaw, gingerly poking at the bruise. He'd iced it enough to stop the swelling, but it ached faintly still. He'd done his best to ignore it.

He grinned anyway. "Nah. I kind of deserved it."

"You didn't," Takeru insisted, his frown deepening. "I'm sorry."

"What did I tell you about the apologies?" Tailmon said, looking up at Takeru now. "It's in the past."

Taichi blinked confusedly, raising his brows. Before he could say anything, however, Takeru's phone buzzed to life on the kitchen counter, drawing everyone's attention away from the conversation.

"Speaking of Nii-san..." Takeru said when he got up to check it. "He's wondering how we're doing."

At any other time, Taichi would have pouted and asked if Yamato didn't trust them in his care. But he was pretty certain he was the last person Yamato wanted to talk to at the moment, even if he'd had a few hours to cool off.

He didn't miss the meaningful look Hikari shot him. She was smiling again. "I'd say we're ok now."

Takeru nodded, smiling as well. "Me too." Then he was typing on his phone, and when the message was sent, he asked, "You sure you're ok, Taichi? Do you want something cool for your face? Maybe some ice?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," he said dismissively, partly to save his pride.

That same spark of amusement from earlier suddenly came to life in Takeru's eyes, which made Taichi's brows shoot up again quizzically and he hurriedly turned around to follow Takeru's gaze. He caught Hikari nodding, only to stop immediately when she caught him staring. She smiled at him brightly, all innocence.

"I'm serious," he said, pouting. "It's fine. _I'm_ _fine_."

"I believe you," Takeru said, but his mirthful tone told Taichi otherwise.

He narrowed his eyes, but relented after a few moments with a dramatic sigh. "Fine, whatever. I'll take some ice."

The giggles that followed was a small sacrifice, Taichi noted internally. Because it meant that they were ok now, and that made Taichi's heart feel much lighter than it had in weeks. The ice in his stomach was rapidly melting, the burning pit finally closing.

Now placed on the coffee table, Takeru's phone buzzed, this time repeatedly. Takeru was already digging through his freezer, and he peered out long enough to ask, "Can one of you get that?"

Taichi peered over curiously. Yamato's name lit up the screen.

"Nii-san?" Hikari pressed, nodding toward the device.

"Oh," he said faintly. "Me?"

"You're the closest," Patamon said as if it was obvious, even though he was the same distance away as Taichi.

"True," Agumon said from his place _right next to the phone._

"It's gonna go to voicemail if you don't hurry," Tailmon added.

"Oh, jeez, fine. Fine," he said, reaching forward. And then, after flipping it open: "Moshi moshi."

"Hey, Teek, I—" A pause. "You're not Takeru."

"Nope," Taichi confirmed.

Yamato was quiet on the other end for a few long moments. Slowly, he asked, "Have they eaten? They didn't touch hardly any of their food at the picnic."

Taichi studied his sister, and then glanced back at Takeru. Tailmon peered up at him, ears twitching, and she shook her head mutely.

"No," he answered finally, frowning in disapproval. How could he have not realized? Both teens looked decidedly pale, a fact that he'd noticed immediately. He should've asked. Should've brought something. But judging by the looks on their faces when he walked in the door, it was obvious that food was the last thing on their minds.

Yamato sighed. "Alright. Tell them I'm bringing food over, would you?"

When he complied, Yamato added, "Only for them. Not for you."

Something cracked and quivered. On instinct, Taichi brought a hand up to his chest, releasing an indignant cry. "Wha—? I'm offended, Yamato."

A chuckle. "I was kidding. What do you want? I'm ordering take-out."

The wall of tension came crashing down, like they hadn't fought at all, like the way it always did. Yes, Taichi decided. He felt much, much lighter than before.


	13. Blended Memories

**a/n:** hahaha, this isn't even that long, and it took over a month to write. XD I'm sorry for the delay. Now that the Reveal is done, I'm having a hard time deciding what ideas to post next. Reviews are much appreciated. 💛

Warning for **mentions of blood** and **attempted suicide.**

* * *

 **setting:** post-ch 24/post-Reveal

* * *

Hikari felt extremely cold.

Her body felt sticky and weak, but there was something else holding her up. Her wrists. Her ankles. Her neck. An unimaginable pain coursed through every fiber of her being, burning her to her very core. It was too much. Too much blood. Too much sound. She was shaking, body convulsing violently in pure agony, throat raw, screaming as loud as her vocal cords would allow.

And louder still was Piemon's taunting laughter—

 _"What's the matter? I thought you_ liked _seeing your own blood."_

 _"I can allay your fears... permanently. If that is what you desire."_

—was her thundering pulse—

 _"They'd all be safe... if I gave you my soul?"_

 _"Then take it."_

—were the demented voices instigating her to take that final step forward—

 _"It will separate your soul from your body."_

 _"Jump... jump... jump...!"_

Hikari screamed and screamed, but the sound that fell from her lips was too quiet, too hoarse, too soft. Like a whisper. So she tried harder. Harder. Willed herself to be heard over the voices, over the laughter, over her own heartbeat. It did not work. Nobody could hear her.

Nobody heard her as she stepped forward.

Nobody heard her as she plummeted downward, plunging deep into a familiar, numbing darkness.

Except Hikari did not hit the ground. Moments later the entire scene shifted, morphing, changing, and she felt a tug. Harder. Harder. Suddenly she was standing over her best friend's motionless body, watching the blood roll, Yamato's broken pleas for him to wake up reaching her ears. Watching Piemon lift Takeru's limp body from Yamato's quaking arms. Watching Takeru look directly at her with soulless eyes.

 _"There is nothing we can do."_

 _"If you drive him out, Hope will die."_

Hikari stood frozen as the events unfolded again and again in front of her eyes, and she couldn't do anything but stare. Her feet would not move. Her whole body refused to obey her. In her head, she was calling out, begging, pleading, please, please, _please,_ just _stop._ But on the outside, she was still and silent as a doll.

 _"You don't seem to understand."_

She could not speak.

 _"He made a deal, you see."_

She could not save him.

 _"All we had to do was draw a little blood."_

She could not do anything but watch.

 _"You should—"_

Bleeding.

"— _have heard—"_

Laughter.

"— _him_ scream."

Hikari wanted to shout that she _could_ hear him, that she could see him, that she knew—damn it, she _knew._ She wanted to scream, too. Wanted them to know that she could _feel everything,_ all of the pain and the blood and the panic, but nobody was listening, and it wouldn't stop, wouldn't stop, just kept rewinding and replaying in an endless, haunting loop like an old VHS tape. Even as her body gave out, sending her to the forest floor in a pile of quaking limbs. Even as her voice died completely.

Even as she bolted up, disoriented and overwhelmed by sensation.

Underneath her, the bed sheets were damp. She'd been sweating. Hands were on her shoulders, and she was screaming still, barely giving herself time to breathe, swatting away cobwebby fingers that clenched with the anticipation of capturing her. Swatting away the shadows of the demons. Wanting to wash off the blood. Everything burned. Her skin felt like it was being pulled from her body. She did not want to be touched. She did not want—

"I don't... I can't... you're _hurting_ him _..._ get _off—_ "

"Hikari. Hikari, it's ok. It's just me," a voice breathed out in a hushed, quick whisper. "It's Taichi, sis. _Taichi._ "

Very slowly, the words registered. Slipped through her skin and acted as an anchor, grounding her into reality. She was in her and Taichi's bedroom. Her screams quickly quieted to a fit of shuddering, breathy hiccups.

"Nii...Nii-san," she croaked out finally, throat aching, chest burning. Her cheeks were wet. She was crying. "I..."

"It's alright," Taichi whispered soothingly, squeezing her shoulders very gently. "It was another nightmare, Hika."

A... a nightmare. She looked into her brother's eyes, saw the concern swimming in his eyes, with traces of fear wedged underneath. She saw the sweat caked on his brow, glistening in the moonlight that spilled through their bedroom window. She saw the way his chest heaved as he breathed out a shaky sigh, as if relieved that she was finally awake.

"...it's alright," Taichi repeated, one hand coming up to rest on her head. "You're alright."

Hikari swallowed thickly, blinking away the tears, trying to wish the remnants of panic away as she slowly became aware that the events of her dream were over. And—

"Takeru," she breathed, eyes popping. Suddenly she was struggling against her brother's hold, stomach clenching. "Nii-san, I have—have to..."

She trailed off as the sound of a door clicking reached her ears. Her head snapped up, vision swaying as she glanced over her brother's shoulder. A face peered in, and light swept over them.

She flinched at the brightness of it, one hand instinctively covering her eyes to block it out.

"We... we heard screaming," her mother's voice said, sounding exhausted and worried.

"It's fine, Mom," Taichi said, turning to face her. "Just a nightmare. I got it."

Hikari couldn't grasp whatever it was that her mother said in reply; her heart was beating too loud in her ears. She didn't even look up when her name was called until Taichi murmured, "She'll be alright. I can handle this."

And then, when she was gone and the door was shut: "I have to talk to him."

"Hika," Taichi said softly, "it's two in the morning."

"I don't care. He's—" She swallowed again, unable to find the right words. It was jarring, not being able to tell the difference between Takeru's memories and her own. Nightmares like that were the worst. She repeated more firmly: "I have to talk to him."

She disentangled herself from her blankets and pulled away from her brother, thankful that the light had been left on so she could see. Stood from her bed before Taichi could protest, careful not to hit her head. Her hands were still trembling when she found her phone.

 _Are you ok?_ she typed out.

She knew the answer—physically, he had to be ok. She would _feel_ it if he wasn't. But her fingers moved anyway—she hit the send button before she could stop herself. She needed confirmation from him. Even if it wasn't verbal.

Taichi hesitated before he spoke. "Do you want something to drink? Maybe some milk?"

Hikari glanced up at him, feeling her heart squeeze when she saw how torn he looked. She did her best to smile, if only to ease the worry written so clearly across his face. She wasn't sure how successful she was, so she whispered, "...sure, Nii-san. Thank you."

He paused as if waiting for her to say something else, but nothing came out and he eventually nodded. Quietly made his way out of their bedroom, with one last look over his shoulder. There was something in his eyes she couldn't read but it was gone before she even try to figure it out.

In her hands, her phone buzzed to life. _Did I wake you up?_

She didn't miss the way he avoided her question. She should have seen it coming, but it didn't make her worry any less.

 _I had a dream,_ she replied.

 _Me too._

 _Are you ok?_ she repeated.

A minute passed, stretched out so long that it seemed like it lasted an aching eternity. Then: _It felt so real._

 _I know. I think so too._

 _Can I call you?_

She was already hitting the call button. Already putting the phone to her ear. Takeru picked up on the first ring. She swallowed one more time, waiting for him to speak. When he did, his voice was raspy and quiet:

"Did... did I really look that scary?"

Hikari hesitated, but didn't prompt him to elaborate further. Knew exactly what he was talking about. An image of Takeru's possessed body—soulless eyes, bloodstained skin—flitted through her mind and she shuddered. Her fingers curled into fists, and she wished desperately that Tailmon was here with her. Why did this have to happen when her partner was in the digital world?

"Yeah," she admitted finally, with her eyes closed. She sank down into her desk chair. "It was really scary."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, guilt lacing his voice.

"It's not your fault," she assured instantly, because it wasn't. None of this was anybody's fault. All of the blame fell on one monster and one alone: Piemon. Repeated firmly, "This isn't your fault, Takeru."

She would say it a thousand times if she needed to. She would say it again and again until Takeru believed it without question.

He was quiet on the other end. Hikari asked in a low voice, "You're not by yourself, are you?"

A shaky breath. "No. I'm at Onii-san's for the weekend."

In spite of herself, Hikari smiled. It was tiny and wobbly, but it was a smile nonetheless. Out of all the horrible things that occurred over the summer, and all the drama that unfolded over the last couple of weeks, it was nice to know that Takeru was able to spend more time with his brother. Most weekends, Yamato would stay with him, which was good to hear.

"That's good," she whispered fondly.

She heard shuffling on the other side. Takeru inquired, "Are _you_ doing alright?"

"I'm better," she said, which technically wasn't a lie. The longer she was awake, the more the nightmare seemed to fade. Hearing Takeru's voice—knowing that neither of them were alone—helped tremendously.

More rustling. Then she heard Yamato's voice: "You're not lying, are you?"

A giggle. "No. I'm alright."

"Your voice sounds hoarse," Yamato observed suspiciously.

She quieted, one hand instinctively coming up to rub her throat. It still ached horribly, and she winced as she recalled how violently she had woken up. Her chest was sore from the painful heart palpitations.

Her silence did not go unnoticed by Yamato. Cautiously, he said, "Did... did you both have the same dream?"

Neither Takeru nor Hikari spoke. Hikari jumped in surprise when she heard the door click again, and Taichi re-entered the room, holding a ceramic mug. His eyes were bloodshot.

A pang of remorse rippled through her as she realized (belatedly) that she must have woken her brother up with her screaming. She wondered if Yamato looked just as exhausted as Taichi did.

"Here," he said, handing her the mug carefully. It was warm. When she took it, he sat down on her bunk.

"Thank you, Nii-san," she murmured, smiling again weakly.

"How's... how's Takeru doing?"

"Nii-san wants to know how you're doing, Takeru," she said into the phone.

She heard rather than saw him smile, but she didn't know how real that smile actually was. "I'm better."

Hikari relayed this to her brother, and then Takeru paused, reluctant. Uncertain. "Maybe... maybe I could see you tomorrow?"

"Sure," she replied. "We can go to the digital world. See how Patamon and Tailmon are doing."

"I'm coming, too," Yamato said before Takeru could respond.

She heard Takeru laugh. It was nice to hear him laugh, quiet but genuine. "Ok, Nii-san." Then, to Hikari: "That sounds nice. We can bring them home with us."

"Yeah," Hikari whispered.

"See you tomorrow, Hikari," Takeru said. "Let's try to go back to sleep."

"Alright," she said quietly. "See you tomorrow."

The line went dead. Silence filtered through the room, somehow seeming comfortable and tense at the same time. Hikari finished off her milk, blinking slowly as exhaustion seeped into her with the force of a wave crashing into a coastline. The burning sensations in her body had faded, but the rest of the aches remained, leaving her in odd state of fatigue.

"When you were a kid," Taichi began suddenly, "you used to have lots of weird dreams."

She looked at him confusedly, setting the phone back on the desk they shared. "Hmm?"

"Sometimes, you'd have nightmares," he went on softly. "Most of the time you wouldn't remember them, but you'd wake up all shaky." He paused, lips pursed into a thin line. "But you never screamed like that before."

Her heart plummeted, submerging into her stomach. Deeper. Deeper. Like it was trying to exit her body and sink into the ground beneath her feet.

"So when you suddenly started having these awful nightmares," Taichi persisted, now looking down at the wooden panels that made up their bedroom floor, "I... I didn't know what to think. I could tell from how everyone was acting that what happened to Takeru was... really bad. What you all went through must have been terrifying."

He paused then, as if mulling over his words. Hikari swallowed nervously.

"Now it makes sense," he finally said, looking back up at her. "Knowing that you and Takeru share a soul. He must have nightmares, too."

Hikari breathed out slowly. "Yeah," she mumbled, glancing at her cell phone as the conversation between her and Takeru replayed in her head. "He does."

Taichi raked a hand through his hair, sighing as well. Then he stood up, careful not to hit his head. Offered a hand to her so she could stand. "Are you... do you want to go back to bed?"

"Sure." Her smile was strained, allowing him to guide her back to the bed. Then, quietly: "I didn't mean to wake you. Or scare you."

"I'm your brother," Taichi said, with a chuckle. "I'm always going to be scared for you."

"I didn't realize..." She bit her lip, trailing off as she climbed back under the covers. Tried again: "I didn't realize how much I was worrying you."

His hand came to rest on her head, and he ruffled her hair affectionately. A small smile coaxed his lips upwards. "Just promise me that they'll be no more secrets. Ok?"

She nodded slowly. "Ok."

"Good. Now get some sleep, sis."

Taichi backtracked to the desk, picking up her mug. Then he was leaving the room, probably to put it in the sink. She blinked, telling herself that she'd thank him when he returned. Now that she was laying down again, however, it was increasingly hard to stay awake.

She succumbed to the exhaustion pulsing through her before Taichi even made it back to their room.


	14. Closure

**a/n:** Erm, hello. So, this is late (if you can't tell by the day of Fictober that this was _supposed_ to be up). But it's here, and let me just say that I am so thankful to everyone for supporting this. It really means the world to me. 💕

That being said, I am marking this as complete. HOWEVER. That doesn't mean that I still won't post! This will never truly be complete because there is still potential for more. I will post more details on my profile later. Shoutout to **Green Spaghetti** for giving me an idea on how to end this chapter! (Also, warning for **talk of death/afterlife.** )

* * *

 **Fictober Day 04:** "I know you didn't ask for this."  
 **setting:** post-ch 24

* * *

Takeru had absolutely no idea where the voice came from.

He wasn't even sure if he'd imagined it—with Piemon officially dead, and all of his servants gone, he knew that there was nothing left to haunt him. Not physically, anyway. Every whisper of sound that he thought may have been a ghost turned out to be just the wind, or something equally mundane. Every time he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, it turned out to be nothing at all.

Which made him feel very, very insane.

So it was no surprise that when he heard a voice, loud in clear, brushing against the outer shell of his ear, he thought that it was real. It _had_ to be real. Right? _Right?_ It couldn't have been simply a figment of his imagination. He'd felt breath on his skin. He'd heard someone call out his name.

He stood right up out of his desk chair, eyes wild as he whirled around. But the only thing he saw was Patamon's startled expression, and his heart stumbled out of its usual steady rhythm.

"What?" Patamon asked, looking worried. "Are you ok, Takeru?"

"That... that wasn't you?" he whispered.

"What wasn't me?"

"I heard..." He swallowed anxiously, turning back to face his desk, where his homework lay, staring back up at him. "Never mind."

"What?" his partner repeated, pushing himself into the air as he spoke. "What did you hear?"

Takeru hesitated, working his jaw. He didn't want to lie to Patamon, but... "It's nothing."

"Takeru." Patamon's eyes were unnervingly stern and soft at the same time. "You can tell me."

Still, Takeru was reluctant to do so. He pursed his lips into a thin line, eyes painfully uneasy. "I could have sworn that I... heard someone."

A blink. "What did they say?"

"My... my name, I think?"

Patamon was quiet, glancing around as if there was something hidden in Takeru's room that he was meant to find. Seconds passed, and he seemed to come up short because he looked back at Takeru with a puzzled expression.

"I knew it," he muttered. "This is stupid. _I'm_ stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Patamon assured instantly. "Just because I didn't hear it doesn't mean it didn't happen."

Somehow, that made Takeru feel worse. Patamon hadn't intended it that way, but he couldn't help but wonder if Patamon had said it in an attempt to make him feel better and not because it was true.

"Right," Takeru said anyway in a quiet voice, nodding to himself. "I... I'm gonna try to finish my homework."

He made his way back to his desk without waiting for a reply, slipping heavily into his chair again, and picked up his pencil. His textbook was wide open, and the sheet of notebook paper beneath it only had a few answers scribbled out on it. He'd been working on it for about an hour, and he'd only been successful in answering three questions.

With a resigned sigh, he flipped to the next page, skimming it for clues on what the answer to the next question could be. He needed to step up his game if he wanted to finish this assignment.

But it wasn't long before his eyes drifted out of focus and the words blurred together, and he could already tell that his concentration was stumbling. It was funny how something so insignificant could mess him up so easily.

So the pencil fell from his hand, rolling. Rolling. Takeru's hand came up to rub his eye, and Patamon asked from behind him, "Takeru? Are you alright?"

His focus was gone. Stripped from him like sheets from a bed. All he could think about was the voice whispering his name, hauntingly similar to the one that had messed with him all summer.

"Takeru?" Patamon repeated softly.

"Pa—"

He wasn't sure how or why it caught his attention. But as he was turning to face his partner with the intentions of telling him he was fine, and that he just needed to find something else to keep his brain occupied, he saw where his pencil had landed: in a perfectly straight line, the very tip of it pointing toward the word _Shibuya_ in his textbook.

Shibuya.

 _Shibuya._

The district had very little significance to him on its own, but something wasn't allowing him to look away from the word. His mind was already whirling, thinking of what the heck could be in Shibuya. Of what could—

For the second time that afternoon, he stood. Reached inside his pocket, pulled out his phone. Punched in Hikari's number.

She answered on the second ring. "Moshi mo—"

"Hikari," he breathed out hastily, all primal panic and urgency. "We have to go to Shibuya."

"What—?" she began, but suddenly paused. After a time: "Let me get my purse."

His grip on his phone tightened, throat abruptly very dry. "Ok. I'm coming."

"Ok. Be careful," she added as an afterthought, and Takeru was already reaching for his backpack.

* * *

An hour later, Hikari and Takeru were sitting inside a train that was headed toward Shibuya. Takeru's leg bounced anxiously as he thought about what had just happened, and the more he dwelled on it, the more stupid it seemed. It was so silly, taking a train to a part of Tokyo that he'd only been to a handful of times in his life and was bound to get lost in because of instinct alone.

He'd been half-tempted to ask Hikari if they should just head home. But he'd made her come out this far away from her home; they might as well keep going. And the train was already moving, anyway.

So, instead, he just said, "I'm sorry, Hikari."

She blinked. "For what?"

"That I dragged you all the way out here."

"Don't be sorry," she said, with a warm smile. "I know you didn't ask for this, Takeru. And besides, you didn't _drag_ me. I came willingly."

"I, on the other hand, do not like being shoved into a backpack, so I can't wait to get off this train," Tailmon deadpanned quietly from inside Hikari's half-closed drawstring bag. "You owe me for this, Takeru."

But no real heat dripped from her words, and that coaxed Takeru to smile. Instinctively, he cast a glance in Patamon's direction to see how he was doing, and his smile grew when he saw that his partner's eyes were closed. Only Patamon could fall asleep in an uncomfortable backpack on a crowded, semi-loud train.

"I don't even know what happened," he confessed softly, his words barely audible over the lively chatter of the people around them. "I just... I got this gut feeling."

He hadn't explained the whole situation to her. Not yet. He'd just met her at her apartment and then they set off to the closest train station. He didn't truly need to tell her about it, but he felt he had to. Needed to put it into words, because the thoughts were just circling and circling around in his head and he needed to give them a voice before they drove him insane.

Hikari reached for his hand. "If being a Chosen has taught me anything, it's to not ignore your gut feeling."

"But what if we get there and we don't know what to do?"

"We'll figure something out," she reassured, eyes soft and kind. "We always do."

She was right, and he knew it. A knot of unease was sitting in his stomach, and it couldn't decide whether it was going to grow bigger or shrink down to a manageable size. He decided to ignore it, for the time being, taking comfort in Hikari's presence.

They descended into a comfortable silence, and that silence lasted until they reached their stop. Inconspicuously, Hikari gave Tailmon an apologetic pat on the head before she pulled on the straps of her bag to close it fully, and Takeru reached for his own backpack as they made their way off the train.

As quickly as they could, they maneuvered out of the public eye so their partners could be free of any restraints. Tailmon shook herself like a wet dog, obviously displeased, but said nothing except, "It's getting chilly. You're both not too cold, right?"

It was colder than Takeru would have liked, but he shook his head and saw Hikari do the same. Patamon settled on his right shoulder, studying Takeru with sleepy eyes. "Do you know what to do now?"

Right. Takeru frowned, looking around. It was strange—he felt a kind of inviting pull from the entire district of Shibuya, like he needed to explore it. Like there was some mystery here that he was supposed to solve.

But at the same time, he felt on edge. Disturbed. His curiosity and his instincts were in the middle of a battle and he was unsure of which side would emerge the victor.

"I... I don't," he admitted eventually. "I just... maybe walk around a bit?"

"Alright," Hikari said. "Lead the way, Takeru."

He did. They walked and walked, rounding corners, crossing streets, strolling down sidewalks, and occasionally stopping to marvel at what the city had to offer. The whole time, the alluring pull kept getting stronger. Stronger. As if someone was slowly guiding him deeper and deeper into the city. Hikari and their digimon partners didn't question his actions or his motives—which he supposed was a good thing, because he wasn't sure he could provide them with a suitable answer.

By the time they reached the Eastern part of the city, the sun was making its way toward the horizon. Takeru eyed it worriedly and then glanced down at his phone. It was nearing six in the evening. The temperature was beginning to dip.

A humorless chuckle bubbled out of his throat before he could stop it.

Patamon blinked quizzically up at him. "Takeru?"

"All I did was waste our time and get us lost," he said, running a hand through his hair and trying to keep the hysteria out of his voice. "This was so stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," Hikari said with a frown. "We can keep walking. It's not a big deal."

"Won't your parents worry?"

His mom wouldn't be home from work until later. But her mother was probably home right now. Hikari's frown disappeared as she looked back at him. "I told her where we were going. As long as I keep her updated, she's fine. She even gave us money for food."

"Food?" Patamon's expression became eager. "Takeru, can we get some food?"

"She also knows that I didn't come alone," Hikari persisted. "And we've got our partners. She trusts Tailmon."

"I'd be offended if she didn't," Tailmon quipped. "I'd never let anyone harm a hair on your head. Or yours, Takeru."

Takeru paused, but he couldn't bring himself to dwell on guilt when Patamon looked so openly excited. Not when he heard the sincerity in Tailmon's voice. Not when Hikari looked at him with nothing but warmth and acceptance. And it would be rude to decline her mother's offer, wouldn't it?

"Let's find somewhere to sit while we think about where to go," Hikari said, tugging on his sleeve.

"Alright," he said eventually, a hesitant smile pulling at his lips. "Ok. Yeah."

Slowly, they made their way to a nearby bench, watching civilians pass by. Takeru took this moment to study his surroundings again. Even with the signs to guide them, he wasn't exactly sure where they were. A few blocks away, he could see large buildings that looked like apartment complexes. They'd passed a café about ten minutes ago. Surely backtracking wouldn't—?

Takeru froze as his eyes caught something in the distance. The call of the city suddenly became much louder. Much more prominent. Something in him was _demanding_ to be heard. Demanding that he head in that direction specifically.

"Hikari," he whispered, looking back at her with bulging eyes. "I... I know where to go now."

"You do?"

He stood without warning, and Hikari was quick to follow. His fingers curled around her wrist and then they were running. Running past other people, running until their legs were burning, running until their lungs and throat felt raw from panting. Takeru's body was moving on its own accord, not stopping until his instinct permitted it.

He was dizzy it finally did, and he had to double over, resting his palms on his knees just so he wouldn't faint. His heartbeat was an obnoxiously loud drumbeat in his ears, blood sloshing and pumping.

"Takeru..." Hikari said breathlessly, gulping as she struggled to catch her breath. "You brought us... to... a cemetery."

"Sh-she's here," he gasped out, eyes squeezing shut. "They... they're both _here,_ Hikari. I know it. I can _feel_ it."

For several moments, Hikari and their partners were quiet, the only sounds lingering between them being their fragmented breath and the faraway traffic noises of Shibuya.

Then, when they weren't so breathless, Patamon pressed worriedly, "Who, Takeru?"

Takeru swallowed the lump growing in his throat. "...Saya," he murmured faintly. "I heard her voice."

"What do you mean, she's here?" Tailmon asked quietly.

Takeru didn't have an answer. Not at first. They stood at the entrance of the cemetery, reluctant to venture in further, until he finally replied, "I think... that she's buried here."

"Where?" Hikari whispered.

Another pause. Takeru took a hesitant step forward, peering in slowly. The sun had yet to set, but the atmosphere was still incredibly unsettling and disturbing, just because of what the place was.

Two months ago, Takeru wouldn't have stepped foot in here. Two months ago, he would have avoided absolutely everything that concerned the dead. Messing with something you didn't understand wasn't a good idea in the slightest.

But... the pull was still there. He couldn't ignore it. He was beginning to think that the feeling wouldn't fade until he investigated.

"I'm not sure," he admitted truthfully. "I... Can we look? Please?"

Hikari glanced around. There were gates surrounding the whole cemetery, but they weren't closed, meaning it had to be open to the public. After several moments, she said, "If you really think she's here, I don't see why not."

"We'll leave before it gets dark," he vowed.

"Alright." She nodded. "Let's go."

He chewed his lip, allowing her hand to slip into his. She squeezed his fingers reassuringly, and Patamon's weight settled atop his head. Tailmon eyed the place warily, and all four of them made their way inside.

Their steps were more careful and tentative than before as they journeyed down the pathway. They weren't just blindly running this time. Takeru's eyes scanned tombstone after tombstone around them, all the while gripping Hikari's hand.

Minutes passed. The sun was sinking deeper and deeper into the horizon, and it was getting colder. Just when he was ready to give up, Hikari expelled a sharp gasp, eyes popping, tugging on his fingers. "Takeru... look."

She pointed with her free hand, and Takeru's head snapped in the other direction to follow her finger.

His whole body went rigid.

Nakao Saya.

Nakao Sakauchi.

Their names were engraved into the stones, along with a set of years: 1992-2000. That was it. They were simple graves stones, both tall and rectangular, with little alters for burning incense and placing flowers. Takeru swallowed, the unease from earlier festering like an infected wound.

"You were right," Patamon said in a low voice, seeming almost awestruck. "You were right, Takeru. Isn't that their names?"

He'd been uncertain of their surnames, but their first names were correct. And the years confirmed that they were fairly young, which both saddened and disturbed Takeru.

"It looks like they died pretty recently," Tailmon murmured.

"You said you heard her voice," Hikari said. "Do you think... she brought you here?"

"But why would she do that?" Takeru asked, squeezing Hikari's hand anxiously. "Why _now?_ It's been months since Piemon died."

Nobody with him had an answer, but then, he hadn't really expected one. There were so many things that he didn't have an answer for.

"They were so young," Hikari said suddenly, sounding tearful. "How awful. To have your life cut short so abruptly. They didn't even have a chance to live."

"I wonder how they died," Takeru muttered.

Hikari looked back at him, stunned. Even Tailmon and Patamon looked surprised at the unexpected response, and Takeru went on, "Well... Piemon said that they were in Hell with him. They both were only eight, and it looks like they died at the same time. It... it must have been very violent. Maybe they held some kind of grudge over something."

Hikari nodded sadly in understanding, eyes soulful and damp. "How do you think they got to the digital world?"

Patamon hummed. "Heaven's Gate could have sent him anywhere. I can't always control where my targets end up."

"And he wasn't dead, so he couldn't have been sent a place where data is stored and reconfigured," Tailmon continued with a grim expression. "He could have been sent to any plain, any universe. And since he didn't have any digimon allies to rely on... he sided with human souls. He made the best of what he had. Humans are easy to manipulate, after all."

"...that's awful," Hikari repeated quietly. "All those souls..."

Takeru's heart plummetted. Hikari sounded like she was ready to cry. He hated seeing her cry.

Without thinking about it, he released her hand. His arm slid around her shoulder, rubbing her arm comfortingly. Tears sprang to his own eyes, and he rushed to blink them away. "We purified them, Hikari. Remember?"

She swallowed shakily. "Yeah. We did."

"It's still terrible, and it doesn't change that they suffered," Tailmon told her gently. "But they're at peace now. Don't forget that. You both saved them."

But why would Saya speak to him now? Why would she bring him all the way out here? It didn't make _sense._ If she was at peace, she wouldn't have called out to him. Right? And why was it _just_ her? Her brother had haunted him, too. Hell, her brother possessed him.

Takeru shuddered.

Patamon pushed himself off Takeru's hat, studying him intently. "It's getting dark. Should we get going? Are you cold?"

"No, I..." He stopped. It _was_ nippy, and it took a moment to realize that both he and Hikari were covered in goosebumps. Whether it was because of the autumn chill or the thought that just fluttered through his brain, he wasn't sure.

Would things be different? If Saya and Sakauchi and all the other spirits had been living, and just under Piemon's spell? Why did they have to be _dead?_ Would he still feel this way? Would he feel worse? Takeru didn't know.

"I wonder... where they are now," he murmured suddenly, looking back at the tombstone. "What kind of afterlife are they experiencing? Where... where do you think _we'll_ go, when we die?"

They weren't like their digimon partners. Tailmon's and Patamon's data would just be recycled. Human souls were much more complicated—the fact they were still standing here, in the middle of a cemetery, thinking about dead children whom they barely knew confirmed that.

"I don't know, Takeru," Hikari answered faintly. "I'd like to think that they're finally happy. A... a part of me will always resent them, for what they did to you. It'll take a long time before we can truly forgive them. But... they were just children, dead or living. It wasn't like they asked to be made Piemon's puppets."

Something clicked deep inside him, like the final piece of a puzzle was finally falling into place. Takeru's eyes bulged.

"Hikari."

She glanced at him. "Hmm?"

"Maybe... maybe that's why she brought me here. Brought _us_ here." He released a long, slow breath. "For... closure."

There was a long pause. Hikari's expression became pensive as she began, "You know... when we were crossing Piemon's barrier, when we were coming to save you... she was so regretful... and sad." A pause. "Maybe she _does_ what you to be happy, Takeru."

Takeru was silent. It was so much to think about, and they all knew it. And he could tell by the tone of her voice that she wasn't expecting a response. Still, he frowned as her words replayed over and over again in his mind, brows knitting together.

"I'll never get over what happened," he said truthfully. "Not completely. But... you're right. It wasn't her fault, or Sakauchi's. They were just Piemon's pawns. And... holding onto the past... holding a grudge... that will never make me happy. Piemon is dead now. He's not coming back."

"That's true," Tailmon said firmly. "He's not."

Takeru nodded, letting the words sink into his skin, into his mind, into his heart. Then he nodded again, more forcibly this time. Echoed, "He's not."

Patamon settled on his shoulder, pressing his cheek affectionately against Takeru's. "I'm proud of you, Takeru."

The warmth of his partner's words sank deep. Deeper. Anchored him. Hikari looked at him with shimmering eyes, but there was a small smile playing her lips. She turned, arms wrapping around his shoulders so she could embrace him. "I'm proud of you, too."

"You're very brave," Tailmon added sincerely.

This time, it was harder to ignore the burning sensation in his eyes. Every time he blinked, the tears returned, and when he smiled it was wobbly and broken. His chin came to rest on Hikari's shoulder. "Thank you."

Tailmon nudged his leg goodnaturedly. "Now let's get out of here."

"Right," Patamon said hastily. "What if they close the gate?"

The idea didn't sit well with Takeru at all. He and Hikari broke apart, sharing a wide-eyed look, before Hikari said slowly, "Wouldn't they check the ground for visitors before they close the gate?"

"I'd rather not find out," Tailmon said, nose twitching. "I don't feel like pretending to be a stuffed toy in the middle of a graveyard."

Takeru expelled a laugh that was tinged with hysteria. "Alright. We're leaving."

"Hey... wait."

Hikari's words coaxed him to pause, and when he glanced at her with his brows raised, he found that she wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was locked on the tombstones of the two children.

"What?"

"There's... a butterfly," she whispered slowly.

Takeru blinked. Repeated, "What?"

Without giving a verbal response, Hikari extended a hand toward Saya's gravestone, one finger outstretched. And Takeru saw what she was referring to—a tiny, beautiful little thing rested on the tombstone, wings fluttering slowly.

Which didn't make sense, because it was getting colder and colder by the minute, and it was dark, and it was the _middle of fall._ Yet the butterfly was here, allowing Hikari to lift it with her finger. She studied it intently, at first looking puzzled. But soon her expression melted into something fonder, more delicate.

"Do you think... it's a sign?" she asked quietly.

His heart stuttered as he, too, gazed at the butterfly resting on Hikari's index finger. "From what?"

"I don't know," she murmured. "But... in a place like this, it seems hopeful. Don't you think?"

Hope. Hope was what he was supposed to represent. It was half of their crest. It was the thing that had been so easily snuffed out almost completely by Piemon, only to return just as brightly because of Hikari. It was what made him Piemon's target.

"Yeah," he said softly, another smile touching his lips. "I guess so."

They looked at each other then, all tenderness and optimism, and maybe it was strange given where they were and their circumstances. It was a sign that Takeru appreciated, nonetheless, a sign that made him feel like there was a recovery possible for him. Like forgiveness was possible. These last couple of months showed him that it was not going to be easy, but he couldn't give up.

"Takeru. Hikari," Tailmon said. "This is nice and everything, but you both need to eat and update your parents. And let's not forget your brothers! Please. It's getting cold and dark and, you know, we're in a _graveyard_."

"Yes," Patamon insisted, nodding. "Let's go."

Hikari laughed. "Yes, ok. Let's go."

She moved her fingers then, and both of them watched the butterfly flutter away. Away from the tombstones, out of the cemetery, toward the bloody skyline. Then she extended a hand for Takeru to take.

The uneasy knot in his stomach wasn't gone, not entirely, but it felt significantly lighter than before.

It was certainly an improvement, Takeru thought, as he accepted her hand.


End file.
